"Heard ye that? 'Tis Mistress Calvert singing,—Mistress Calvert!"
When the song was ended, Margaret took her turn at story-telling, and then Cecil must sing; and thus the time sped away so fast that they could scarce believe their ears when the curfew bell sounded for "lights out," and Cecil well-nigh forgot the answer to the bell, that he had been taught in babyhood and repeated every night since he could speak: "Christ send us the lights of Heaven!"
"Off to bed with thee, Cecil," said his mother, taking his face between her hands, as was her wont, and kissing him on both cheeks. "To bed, and sweet dreams attend thee!"
"Yet forget not to be up early," added Margaret.
"No fear, I have all the candles to light for the Candlemas blaze, and Father White hath promised I may help him in the chapel of Our Lady."
Leaning against his mother's knee he looked up into her face, exclaiming,—
"Oh, but I do love thee!"
"I wonder why."
"Why?—because thou art thou, and I am I."