Loveday's history

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

Somehow, the whole scheme of the journey was distasteful to me—not for any reason that I could give, but because of a feeling I had that trouble would come of it; and I would willingly have foregone the money to remain quietly and safely at home. My husband, on the contrary, was delighted with the prospect of seeing London once more, and mixing with the world of scholars and reformers. It was no more than natural, I am sure. He was, a born scholar and divine, and he had been for a long time buried where he had little or no society of his own kind.

"But you will go with me," he said, as we were talking it over. "I must have you with me."

"A fine showing that you can not go up to London without your wife," said I, though my heart did give a great leap at the thought of seeing my old friends again.

True, the Davis family no longer lived in London, having returned to the country, but my dear mistress lived there. The Duke of Suffolk had been dead some years, and her Grace was married again to a Mr. Batie, a gentleman of somewhat obscure family, but an admirable scholar and a very excellent man. It did seem strange to me that her Grace should take a second partner, but I do think her attachment to the Duke was rather that of an affectionate daughter to an indulgent father, than that of a wife to her husband. He had, as it were, brought her up, and he had married her very young, and before her heart had time to open. Never was happier wife, I am sure; but still I do not think the Duke ever was to her what Mr. Batie was, or what my good man was to me.

Besides my desire to see London, I could not but feel that Walter would be the better of me at his elbow. A wife may reverence her husband according to the Scripture, as I am sure I have ever done by mine, and yet be conscious of his little infirmities. I knew Walter would not be so likely to spend half his legacy in old manuscripts and new books, and the rest in buying finery for Katherine and myself, if I were at hand, nor would he forget half his engagements and remember the other half wrong if he had me to look over the pocket-book where he carefully set them down, and which he never looked at afterward.

The great difficulty seemed to be how to dispose of Katherine. I did not like to leave her with Mary Thornton, whose temper did not mend with age, and who was always a little disposed to be jealous of the child. Any of the farmers' dames about would have been glad of her; but there were objections to that plan also. Just in the nick of time, however, my lady came forward and claimed Katherine for her own while we should be away. Kate would be invaluable to her, she was pleased to say, as a companion to herself and a teacher to the elder little girl. I knew my lady well enough to know that while she would be kind to the child, she would not spoil her, and so it was agreed that Katherine should stay at Stanton Court during our absence. Little did we think how long that absence was like to be, or how many things were to happen before we saw the dear maiden again.

At last, the day of departure came, and we set out, taking Stanton Court in our way, and leaving Katherine in her new home. My lady had given me a good horse for my own riding, an arrangement far more pleasant to me than being trussed up on a pillion. The two servants Sir John Peckham sent were staid, sober, middle-aged serving men, real old fashioned blue-coats, such as they tell me are going out of vogue now-a-days, when gentlemen must have their grooms, their footmen, pages and what not.

The time was just past the middle of June. The weather was lovely and the roads as good as they ever are in England. We did not hurry, but traveled in the cool mornings and afternoons, stopping in the heat of the day at some country inn, or in some little town, two or three times with old friends of my husband's settled in quiet country rectories. It was at one of these last named places that we heard a rumor of the young king's rapidly declining health.

"Heaven help us!" said my husband. "What will become of this land if he dies?"

"There may be better days in store for England than she hath ever yet seen!" answered our host, who was a dignified clergyman. "My brother, from whom I have most of my news, tells me that there is a prospect of the Lady Jane Grey succeeding to the throne. She is, as every one says, a young lady of excellent parts and sweet disposition, and loyal to the reformed faith to the bottom of her heart."