“What say you, Father Tye?”
“Truly, that I have not over much trust in Felstede’s wife. She was wont of old time to have Bible-readings and prayer-meetings at her house; and though she feigneth now to be reconciled and Catholic, yet I doubt her repentance is but skin deep. The children were better a deal with the Black Nuns. Yet—there may be some time ere we can despatch them thither, and if you thought good, Felstede’s wife might have them till then.”
“Good!” said Sir John. “Call the woman in.”
Ursula Felstede was called in, and stood courtesying at the door. Sir John put on his stern and pompous manner in speaking to her.
“It seemeth best to the Queen’s Grace’s Commission,” said he, “that these children were sent in the keeping of the Sisters of Hedingham: yet as time may elapse ere the Prioress cometh to town, we leave them in thy charge until she send for them. Thou shalt keep them well, learn them to be good Catholics, and deliver them to the Black Nuns when they demand it.”
Ursula courtesied again, and “hoped she should do her duty.”
“So do I hope,” said the priest. “But I give thee warning, Ursula Felstede, that thy duty hath not been over well done ere this: and ’tis high time thou shouldst amend if thou desire not to be brought to book.”
Ursula dropped half-a-dozen courtesies in a flurried way.
“Please it, your Reverence, I am a right true Catholic, and shall learn the children so to be.”
“Mind thou dost!” said Sir John.