When I met Prudence she raised up her hands and eyes: "Lo, did I not say as much? The silks and satins have come already—next thing my Lady will find some needy kinsman of her own to whom my Lady Rosamond's portion will be a convenience, and then comes a wedding—and then—Well, well, when it comes, maybe my words will be believed."
"Maybe so!" I answered. "And maybe we shall catch larks when the sky falls, but I doubt it."
"Mrs. Prue hates weddings because she could never get a goodman herself!" said Master Lee, our old house steward, between whom and Prudence is perpetual war. "For my part, I ever said Mistress Rosamond was too good for a cloister. There are plenty of sallow cheeks and vinegar faces, that would be all the better for a veil!"
Whereat Prudence turned on him like a fury, and I retreated from the war of words to mine own room.
[CHAPTER XXIV.]
April 25, Sunday.
MY father and brother came home safely, and my Lady and I met them in the hall.
"Heyday, what lady have we here?" cried my father, cheerily. "Here, let me look at you. I must say she becomes her change of dress well, does she not, Harry?"