It was not in Isoult Avery, at least, to respond angrily to such a speech as that.
Before mid-winter was reached, the swans were increased by one in the house in the Minories. On the 29th of November, a baby daughter was born to John and Isoult Avery; and on the 4th of December the child was christened at Saint Botolph’s, Mr Rose officiating. The name given her was Frances. The sponsors were the Duchess of Suffolk, for whom Mrs Rose stood proxy; and Lady Frances Monke, whose deputy was Mrs Underhill; and, last and greatest, the young King, by Sir Humphrey Ratcliffe, Captain of the Gentlemen Pensioners, and a Gospeller. The mania for asking persons of distinction to stand as sponsors was at its height during the reigns of the Tudor sovereigns. Every one of them was godfather or godmother to countless multitudes of his or her subjects, though they rarely, if ever, acted in person. We shall find on a later page, that even “the nine days’ queen,” Lady Jane Grey, was not without this distinction during her momentary reign.
During the illness of Isoult—for she was so ill that for some days Dr Thorpe considered her life in danger—the breach, if it may be called so, with West Ham was made up. Both Mr and Mrs Rose were in constant attendance at the Minories, and Thekla came with them several times, her charge being the children, so that Esther might be entirely free to wait on her sick mistress. The subject was not discussed again, but from this date, on both sides, it appeared to be quietly taken for granted that Robin and Thekla henceforward belonged to each other. The Underhills, too, were very kind, Mrs Underhill undertaking to sit up with her invalid friend for several nights.
On the 13th of February 1551, Dr Gardiner was fully deprived of his bishopric. The Gospellers hoped it was for ever, but it will shortly be seen how deceived they were.
And at Easter the holy table in Saint Paul’s Cathedral was carried down below the veil that had been hung up to hide from the non-communicants the consecration of the elements, and set north and south; for, as yet, the customary place of the table was east and west.
Strange tales were told this Lent of fearful and marvellous visions and sights seen by many persons. Beside Merton Abbey, and in other places, men in armour were seen in the air, who came down to the earth and faded; and in Sussex were three suns shining at once. John Avery made himself merry over these rumours, in which he had no faith. “The three suns,” said he, “were but some matter of optical philosophy, which could readily be expounded of such as were learned in it; and for the men in armour, when he saw them he would believe them.” Dr Thorpe considered the wonderful sights omens of coming ill, but from Esther they won very scant respect.
In May the party from the Lamb dined with Mr Holland, at whose house they met Mr Rose, and Mr and Mrs Underhill. The last-named gentleman could talk of nothing but the expected marriage of the young King with a Princess of France. This Princess was the hapless Elizabeth, afterwards affianced to Don Carlos, and eventually married to his father, the wretched Philip the Second. At this time she was just five years old.
“But,” said Isoult, “she shall be a Papist, trow?”
“She shall be a Papist of mighty few years old,” said Mr Underhill, laughing; “and we will quickly make a Protestant of her. I hear she is a mighty pretty child, her hair dark and shining, her eyes wondrous bright, and her smile exceeding sweet.”
“Sweeter than Thekla Rose’s?” asked Mrs Underhill, herself smiling.