"And what book have you there?" said she, as I took up the volume I had laid on the table.
I told her.
"What, you are an heretic, then?" said she, sharply.
"Nay, madam, why should you think so?" I answered.
"Because you read the Bible, like that snake-in-the-grass that brought my dear mistress to her doom. Away, I have naught to do with heretics. They murdered my dear mistress."
"But, dear madam, listen a moment," said I. "Don't you know that both Luther and Tyndale wrote against the king's divorce of Queen Katherine, as did many others whom men call heretics? For myself, I do not pretend to judge of state matters, being nothing but a simple maid, but my heart hath ever been with your mistress. And you know it was the great Cardinal who first helped on the matter of the divorce. I have heard say that the queen herself accused him of blowing the coal betwixt her and the king."
"So she did, so she did, poor soul!" said the old lady, relenting a little. "But, oh, my maiden, for your soul's sake, beware of heresy, and of reading and judging in matters too high for you. It is that which is drawing down vengeance on this realm."
I soothed her, as well as I could, and, getting her comfortably seated in her great chair, I fetched my "Imitation," and read to her a few minutes.
"There is the bell, Mistress Corbet," said she, as a bell rang in the gallery. "You must go, but you will come again, won't you?"
"Yes, indeed!" said I, venturing to kiss her forehead; whereat she gave me a smile and her blessing.