Satisfied on these points, I lay awhile longer.
Then I asked again, "How is Philippa?"
A smile played over Mistress Davis's face which made her look like herself again.
"Why well, and more than well," said she. "Philippa is married."
"Married!" I exclaimed.
"Even so, and to whom, think you? To no one less than Robert Collins."
"Not Robert Collins—Avice's cousin—not the one who was to have become a brother of the Charter-house," said I.
"Exactly. That very Robert Collins."
I burst out laughing, and somehow that laugh did seem to dissipate the last cloud from my brain.
"But how did it come about? They used to bewail their hard fate together in not being allowed to take the vows."