"'Tis half the battle to know one's fault," gently answered Mistress Curtis; "but yet I counsel you, maiden, to strive with all your might against it. A hasty temper often does more harm in five minutes than can be undone by the bitter repentance of a lifetime."
I thought I had too much reason to know that.
"I never thought it so bad a fault as some others—as lying and deceit!" observed Mistress Davis.
"True, sister. Deceit is to all other faults as the King's Evil * to other diseases. It infects the whole soul as that the whole body, blood, flesh and bone, and one never knows when it may break out or what form it may take. But there is no single fault which, when indulged, does not drag a chain of other sins along with it. Learn, then, to rule thy spirit, dear maiden, and so to be greater than he that taketh a city, as the wise man says. Now, as to a less important matter, but yet one of weight, especially with young maids—your clothes!" she added, smiling.
* What we now call scrofula. It was named King's Evil from the fact that the Kings of England were believed to have the power of curing it.
"If it please you, madam, do you and my Aunt Davis settle that between you," I answered. "I am sure you will know best."
"Why, so we will. Meantime, you may go into the next room, where you will find an instrument, some music books, and other volumes with which you may amuse yourself."
I rose, nothing loth, and passed into the next room; a very pretty one with an oriel window, and having a lute and virginals * and a pile of music books, and looking these over I discovered a book of the psalms in French meter with music attached. I could not forbear trying these with the spinet, and was so much engaged with them, that I started as if shot when some one opened the door. I rose in some confusion, when I found my visitor was a tall, stately gentlemen, splendidly dressed, but one who would have shown his dignity in any weeds.
* The spinet, clarichord and virginals wore all ancestors of the piano-forte. See a very interesting article in Macmillan's "English Magazine" for January, 1884.
"I crave pardon for startling you, fair lady," said he, with a gesture of courtesy. "I was looking for Mistress Curtis, and hearing your voice, my curiosity would not be satisfied without seeing the singer. Pray, good Curtis—" as she entered by the other door—"what fair lady is this who sings so charmingly?"