"Stay at home to play with my babes, like a good housewife," said she, with a smile, "and perhaps to visit poor Mistress Patience, whom I have not seen for two days."
"I perceived the old lady was not at table."
"No, she is ill at ease, poor soul. I think not she will live long."
"It is hardly to be wished. Good-by, then, sweetheart."
When the duke had gone, his wife rose and bidding us attend her, she went first to the nursery, where I saw her two little sons, of four and five years, lovely buds of that noble stem, destined to be blighted in their earliest bloom by the dreadful sweating sickness. They were sweet, well-governed children, overjoyed to see their beautiful mother, and coming with shy grace to speak to me when bade to do so. Presently the elder boy asked his mother when sister Frances was coming home, and I then learned for the first time that the duke had an unmarried daughter by his third wife, Margaret of England, who was now visiting some lady about the court.
I was in a hurry for supper to come now, hoping I might see in the new tutor my old friend and playmate, and then telling myself how silly I was to prepare such a disappointment. But I was not destined to be disappointed. The Duke being away, the whole family sat down to supper together, and the very first sight convinced me that Walter Corbet was before me. He had grown older, of course, and looked thin and worn, but there was the old expression of peaceful firmness and resolution in his dark eyes and in the lines of his mouth. I do not think he glanced at me, till the Duchess addressed some kind word to him, when he looked up and our eyes met. Even then, he did not recognize me at once, and no great wonder, as he had not seen me since I was eight years old; yet his eyes lingered on my face with puzzled expression, which the Duchess observing, (as she always saw every thing,) said:
"Master Corbet, my new gentlewoman hath the same name as yourself and comes also from the West Country. It may be you are of kin."
I could not but smile at his look of bewilderment, and seeing he was still uncertain, I touched with my finger a small but deep scar on my brow, which I had gotten in one of our childish expeditions after nuts.
"Surely!" said he. "This cannot be my little cousin Loveday, who used to live at Peckham Hall with my mother?"
"Even so," I answered, as my mistress's eye and smile gave me leave to speak. "I knew you in a moment; but then you are changed less than I."