“Nor should he not be,” said Regina, whose tiny bobbins were flying about on her lace-cushion, too fast for the eye to follow. “Did we not come, all, from von man and von woman? I tink Adam was not too proud to speak to Abel: and if Cain would not talk, he was bad man, and we should not take de pattern after de bad mans. Ach! if dere was none but good mans and good womans, what better of a world it should be!”
Regina had too much tact and sense of propriety to thrust herself into the conversation between the Archbishop and her husband; she sat silently listening and working, and the sprigs of lace flowers grew rapidly under her skilful fingers.
“I would fain speak with you, Mr Altham,” said the Archbishop, “touching the disposing of my cousin Amphillis. I cannot but feel that the maid hath been somewhat wronged by her father’s kin; and though, thanks be to God, I never did her nor him any hurt, yet, being of his kindred, I would desire you to suffer me a little to repair this wrong. She seemeth me a good maid and a worthy, and well bred in courtesy; wherefore, if my word might help her to secure a better settlement, I would not it were lacking. I pray you, therefore, to count me as your friend and hers, and tell me how you think to order her life. She hath, I take it, none other guardian than you?”
“My Lord, your Grace doth us great honour. ’Tis true, the maid hath none other guardian than I; and her mother was mine only sister, and I held her dear: and seeing she had none other to give an helping hand, I was in the mind to portion her with mine own daughters. I gave to the two, and shall give to the other, five pound apiece to their marriages, and likewise their wedding gear; and seeing she is a good, decent maid, and a credit to her kin, I would do the same by Amphillis.”
“Therein do you act full nobly, Master Altham,” said the Archbishop; for the sum named was a very handsome one for a girl in Mr Altham’s station of life at that time. Only a tradesman very well-to-do could have afforded to portion his daughter so highly, with an amount equivalent in the present day to about 80 pounds. “Go to, then: will you suffer me that I endow my young kinswoman with the like sum, and likewise find her in an horse for her riding?”
In days when public conveyances of all kinds were totally unknown, a horse was almost a necessity, and only the very poor were without one at least. The price of such a horse as would be considered fit for Amphillis was about thirty shillings or two pounds. The offer of the Archbishop therefore struck Mr Altham as a most generous one, and his thanks were profuse accordingly.
“Have you taken any thought for her disposal?” inquired the prelate.
“No, in very deed,” replied the worthy patty-maker, with some hesitation. “There be nigh me divers youths of good conditions, that I dare be bound should be fain to wed with a maid of good lineage and decent ’haviour, with a pretty penny in her pocket; but I never brake my mind to any, and—” here Mr Altham glanced at Regina, and received an optic telegram across the bobbins—“if your Grace were pleased to think of any that you had a favour for, I would not in no wise stand in the way thereto.”
“Methinks,” said the Archbishop, “under your leave, worthy Master Altham, my cousin might look somewhat higher. Truly, I mean not to cast scorn on any good and honest man; we be all sons of Adam: but—in a word, to speak out straightway, I have one in my mind that I reckon should not make an ill husband for Amphillis, and this is Sir Godfrey Foljambe his squire, Master Norman Hylton, that is of birth even with her, and I believe a full worthy young man, and well bred. If it may suit with your reckoning, what say you to breaking your mind to him thereupon, and seeing if he be inclined to entertain the same?”
“My Lord,” replied Master Altham, after exchanging another telegram with his Mentor, “in good sooth, both Phyllis and I are much beholden unto you, and I will full gladly so do.”