"So it has come to this, even as I said!" said she, with no form of greeting.
"Not quite!" I answered. "You said my mother would wed me with a kinsman of her own."
"So it has come to this!" she repeated again, paying no heed to my words. "You, Mistress Rosamond, who were consecrated before you were born, and wore the veil in your very cradle—you are returned to the world, even as your mother did before you!" Then changing her tone, and falling on her knees at my feet: "Oh, Mistress Rosamond, don't! For love of your own soul, don't go to throw yourself away thus—don't bring down wrath and shame on your head, and doom your mother's soul to endless woe! I know you don't love me, and maybe you have small cause; but I loved your mother, and I nursed you when a fair babe. Oh, Mistress Rosamond, think before it is too late!"
The woman was fairly convulsed with sobs.
"Nay, Prue, why should I bring woe on my head by obeying my father?" said I. "I never was professed, so I break no vows, and why cannot I serve God as well in the married state, which was that of Saint Peter himself, as in a convent? St Peter was married, and so was St. James, and what was good enough for them should be for me, surely."
"And St. Paul says, marriage is honorable in all—remember that, Prudence!" says Dick. "And when our Lord was on earth, he went to a wedding and turned the water into wine for the poor folks."
"I don't believe it!" says Prue.
"Then you don't believe the Gospels, and that is worse than being married," answered Dick, gayly; and with more of his old mischief than I have seen in him for a long time. "Come, Prue, be a reasonable woman, and here's a good Harry gold piece to buy you a new gown for the wedding."
"I shall never see that wedding!" said she, never noticing the money he held out to her. "I have warned you and entreated you, and all in vain. Your blood be on your own heads, if you persevere! Only remember, when the stroke comes, that I warned you!"
And with that she turned away and left us.