Loveday's history

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

"But we must have patience. 'For here we have no continuing city'—well for us if we can add—'but we seek one to come—if, indeed, we look for a city which hath foundations whose builder and maker is God.'"

How I longed to ask her if these words were from the Evangel. But even had I dared to put such a question to her, there was no time, for the portress came in haste to say that a stranger in the parlor desired to speak with the lady, and with Mistress Loveday Corbet, if it might be allowed.

"Fine doings, indeed, if strange men are to come to our house and ask to see a postulant, and that not even on a visiting day," grumbled the poor old woman. "Fine doings, indeed!"

"You forget, my poor sister, that we have no longer a house," said the prioress, sadly. "Did the gentleman give his name?"

"That he did, reverend mother," answered the portress. "No man comes into this house without giving his name while I am portress, though I died the next minute. But this seems a worthy man and civil—a merchant of London, I should say, as mine own honored father was, and he was an iron-monger in East Cheap."

"All this time you are not giving me the gentleman's name," said the prioress, while I was burning with impatience I dared not show.

"I did not say a gentleman, reverend mother, but a merchant, which he says his name is John Davis," answered the portress, coming at last to the matter in hand. My heart sank for a moment, for I thought it might be mine uncle, but it rose again as I considered that Master Davis had probably heard of what had befallen us and had come to seek for me.

So it proved. John Davis looked just as I remembered him, only older. He was a grave and reverend man, with silver hair and beard, a polished demeanor, and more of the scholar in his aspect than one would have expected of a silk mercer. But Master Davis had dealt in far other wares than silks and damask in his day, and had made his profit of them as well.

He greeted the lady with as deep a reverence as though she had still been at the head of one of the best houses in the country—perhaps a little deeper—and proceeded to open his business. He had heard, he said, of the misfortune which had befallen the house, in common with many others, and he had come to find the niece of his old friend and take her to his own home. Then turning his cap in his hand, with some appearance of embarrassment, he adverted to another matter. Heaven had blessed him, he said, with abundant wealth. He should esteem it a favor if the lady would accept a small sum at his hands to help those of the family who were without means or friends.

"You are very kind, sir," said the prioress. "You do not then think that all convents are the sinks of iniquity that they have been represented of late."