"Hark to him!" he cried. "If he had a daughter! Marry and amen, I would we could see what kind of maid she would be."
"I gainsay," put in Sevenoakes, thinking to shift the subject, "that Will Shakespeare comes home as much for Deb's wedding as aught else."
A shade went over Berwick's face. "The church hath been pranked out most gaily, Master Thornbury," he said.
"'Twill be gay enough," said Saddler, "but there'll be little comfort in it and small rest for a man's hand or elbow anywhere for the holly they've strung up. I have two lame thumbs with the prickles that have run into them."
Thornbury smiled. "Then 'twas thou who helped the lads and lasses this afternoon, Ned," he said; "and I doubt nothing 'twas no one else who hung the great bunch of mistletoe in the chancel! I marvel at thee."
At this they all laughed so loudly that they did not hear Deb and little Dorien enter the room and come over to the hearth, with Tramp following.
"What art making so merry over, Dad?" she questioned, looking from one to another.
"Nay, ask me not. Ask Saddler."
"He doth not like maids who are curious," she said, shaking her head. "I am content to be in the dark."
Then she cried, listening, "There, dost not hear the coach? I surely caught the rumble of the wheels, and she is on time for once! Come, Dorien. Come, Dad, we will to the door to meet them."