“Ay. So be the Hyltons all.”
“Whence gat you the same?”
“It was learned me of my Lady Molyneux of Sefton, that I served as chamberer ere I came hither. I marvel somewhat, Amphillis, that thou hast never heard the same, and a Neville. All the Nevilles of Raby be of our learning—well-nigh.”
“Dear heart, but I’m no Neville of Raby!” cried Amphillis, with a laugh at the extravagance of the idea. “At the least, I know not well whence my father came; his name was Walter Neville, and his father was Ralph, and more knew I never. He bare arms, ’tis true—gules, a saltire argent; and his device, ‘Ne vile velis.’”
“The self arms of the Nevilles of Raby,” said Marabel, with an amused smile. “I marvel, Amphillis, thou art not better learned in thine own family matters.”
“Soothly. I never had none to learn me, saving my mother; and though she would tell me oft of my father himself, how good and true man he were, yet she never seemed to list to speak much of his house. Maybe it was by reason he came below his rank in wedding her, and his kin refused to acknowledge her amongst them. Thus, see you, I dropped down, as man should say, into my mother’s rank, and never had no chance to learn nought of my father’s matters.”
“Did thine uncle learn thee nought, then?”
“He learned me how to make patties of divers fashions,” answered Amphillis, laughing. “He was very good to me, and belike to my mother, his sister; but I went not to dwell with him until after she was departed to God. And then I was so slender (insignificant) a country maid, with no fortune, ne parts (talents), that my cousins did somewhat slight me, and keep me out of sight. So never met I any that should be like to wise me in this matter. And, the sooth to say, but I would not desire to dwell amongst kin that had set my mother aside, and reckoned her not fit to company with them, not for no wickedness nor unseemly dealing, but only that she came of a trading stock. It seemeth me, had such wist our blessed Lord Himself, they should have bidden Him stand aside, for He was but a carpenter’s son. That’s the evil of being in high place, trow.”
“Ah, no, dear heart! It hath none ado with place, high or low. ’Tis human nature. Thou shalt find a duchess more ready to company with a squire’s wife, oft-times, than the squire’s wife with the bailiff’s wife, and there is a deal further distance betwixt. It hangeth on the heart, not on the station.”
“But folks’ hearts should be the better according to their station.”