“Thekla hath but sixteen years,” said John; “and Rose thinketh her too young to be wed yet.”
“So should any man with common sense,” replied Dr Thorpe. “Why, lad! what can a maid of such tender years do to rule an house? I warrant thee she should serve thy chicken at table with all the feathers on, and amend thy stockings wrong side afore!”
“Nay,” said Isoult, laughing; “her mother shall have learned her something better than that.”
“Get thee to thine accidence,” said Dr Thorpe to Robin. “Hic, haec, hoc, is a deal meeter for the like o’ thee than prinking of wedding doublets!”
“Dr Thorpe!” answered Robin, aggrievedly, “you alway treat me as though I were a babe.”
“So thou art! so thou art!” said the old man. “But now out of thy cradle, and not yet fit to run alone; for do but see what folly thou hadst run into if Jack and Mr Rose had not been wiser than thou!”
Robin’s lip trembled, and he walked slowly away. Isoult was sorry for the lad’s disappointment, for she saw that it was sore; yet she felt that John and Mr Rose were right, and even Dr Thorpe.
“Rose saith,” resumed John, “that he thinketh not his daughter to be as yet of ripe judgment enough to say more than shall serve for the time; and he will therefore have no troth plighted for this present. In good sooth, had not her mother much urged the consulting of her, methinks he should rather have said nought unto her of the matter. ‘But (quoth he) let three years pass, in the which time Robin shall have years twenty-two, and Thekla nineteen; and if then both be of like mind, why, I will say no further word against it.’”
“Bits o’ scraps o’ childre!” said Dr Thorpe, under his voice, in a tone of scorn and yet pity which would sorely have grieved Robin, had he not gone already.
“Be not too hard on the lad, old friend,” urged John, gently. “Many younger than he be wed daily, and I take it he hath had a disappointment in hearing my news. I thought best not to make too much thereof in the telling; but scorn not the lad’s trouble.”