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Updated: June 3, 2025
"Folks cannot have alway what they would," said Alice, "But you know, neighbour, Bessy Foulkes is one of us." "Well, what then? So's Master Clere." Alice made no answer. "What mean you, Alice Mount? Master Clere's a Gospeller, and has been this eight years or more." "I did not gainsay it, Meg." "Nay, you might not gainsay it, but you looked as if you would if you opened your mouth."
"Has Bessy been preaching at the Market Cross?" asked Rose in genuine horror, for she took Mrs Clere's statements literally. "That's not while to-morrow," said Mrs Clere in the same sarcastic tone. "She's giving the lecture at home first, to get perfect. I promise you I'm just harried out of my life, what with one thing and another!"
So saying, Rose drew the stools into a corner, out of the way of the wind, which came puffing in at the skylight in a style rather unpleasant for November, and the girls sat down together for a chat. "How go matters with you at Master Clere's, Bessy?" "Oh, middling. I go not about to complain, only that I would Mistress Amy were a bit steadier than she is." "She's a gadabout, isn't she?"
Go you on, and when you've made an end I'll ask good Master Clere to show me some, without Mistress Clere's at liberty sooner." Alice Mount was soon satisfied. She bought ten yards of the brown kersey, with some black buckram to line it, and then, as those will who have time to spare, and not much to occupy their thoughts, she turned her attention to helping Margaret Thurston to choose her gown.
Verily, the last recruit that I looked to see join Christ's standard was Nicholas Clere's daughter." "Good-morrow, Mistress Clere! Any placards of black velvet have you?"
What's she been doing, now?" "Heresy," said the Bailiff, shortly. "Heresy! dear, dear, to think of it! Well, now, who could have thought it? But Master Clere's a bit unsteady in that way, his self, ain't he?" "Oh nay, he's reconciled." "Oh!" The tone was significant. "Why, was you wanting yon maid o' Mistress Clere's?" said the porter's wife.
Over Master Clere's door and over every door in the street hung a signboard, on which some sign was painted, each different from the rest, for signs then served the purpose of numbers, so that two alike in the same street would have caused confusion.
"Go down and open to 'em," was Mrs Clere's next order. "Eh, I durstn't if it was ever so!" screamed Amy in reply. "May I unlock the door and send Bessy?" "Thee do as thou art bid!" came in the gruff tones of her father. "Come, I'll go with thee," said her mother. "Tell Master Bailiff we're at hand, or they'll mayhap break the door in." A third violent rap enforced Mrs Clere's command.
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