Whereat Mistress Patience murmured something under her breath about soft-heartedness toward heretics being treason to the Church; but she added no more. I think Master Griffith hath great influence over her, and if I may venture to say so, over his mistress as well; and I wonder not at it, for he hath a calm, wise way with him, and a considerate manner of speaking, which seems to carry much weight. It was odd, certainly, what Magdalen Jewell said about the priest, and also about her brother. It does seem hard that he should have gone away and left her to bear the whole burden of nursing and maintaining her father, and yet, as we are taught to believe, it is he who hath chosen the better part. Another thing which struck me about this same Magdalen was, that she was so wonderful well spoken, for a woman in her state of life. Even her accent was purer than that of the women about here, and she used marvellous good phrases, as though she were conversant with well-educated people.
This was the last of our walks. To-morrow the Queen goes, and then I shall fall back into my old way of life again, I suppose—writing, and working, and walking in the garden for recreation. Well, I must needs be content, since there is no other prospect before me for my whole life. It will not be quite so monotonous as that of the poor lady who lived for twenty years in the Queen's room, and never looked out.
I ought to say, that when we returned from visiting Magdalen Jewell, we found that a post had arrived with letters for the Queen, and also a packet for Mistress Anne, who seemed wonderful pleased with her news, and with a fine ring which she said her brother had sent her.
"Your brother is very generous," said her Grace, (and I saw her face flush and her eyes flash.) "Methinks I have seen that same ring before. 'Tis not very becoming for your brother to make so light of his Majesty's gifts, as to bestow them, even on his sister."
"I trust your Grace will be so good as not to betray my poor brother's carelessness to his Majesty," answered Mrs. Bullen, with an air and tone of meekness, which seemed to me to have much of mocking therein. "It might prove the ruin of us both."
To my great terror and amazement, the Queen turned absolutely pale as ashes, and put out her hand for support. Both Mrs. Anne and myself sprang forward, but she recovered herself in a moment, and her color came back again.
"'Tis nothing," said she, quietly. "I think the heat was too much for me. Patience, your arm; I will lie down awhile."
The glance which Patience cast on Mrs. Bullen in passing, was such as one might give to a viper or other loathsome reptile. Mrs. Bullen, on her part, returned it, with a mocking smile. Presently I saw her in the garden in close conference with Amice, as indeed I have done several times before. I cannot guess what they should have in common, and it is all the more odd that I know Amice does not like her.
