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Updated: June 1, 2025
And as Perronel, more buxom and rosy than London had ever made her, came forth from her dairy, and there was a melee of greetings, and Stephen would have asked what homeless little one the pair had adopted, he was cut short by an exulting laugh. "No more adopted than thy Giles there, Stephen. 'Tis our own boy, Thomas Randall!
The table was already covered with a cloth, and Perronel quickly placed on it a yellow bowl of excellent beef broth, savoury with vegetables and pot-herbs, and with meat and dumplings floating in it. A lesser bowl was provided for each of the company, with horn spoons, and a loaf of good wheaten bread, and a tankard of excellent ale.
Randall, who had in the meantime donned his sober black gown in the inner chamber, together with a dark hood, accompanied his newly found father-in-law down the river, and Stephen would fain have gone too, but for the injunction to return within the hour. Perronel had hurried back to her grandfather's side to endeavour to compose him after the shock of gladness.
Perronel thought well of the suggestion, and decided that after the mass on All Soul's Day, and the general visiting of the graves of kindred, she would send Aldonza home with Dennet, whom they were sure to meet in the Pardon Churchyard, since her mother, as well as Abenali and Martin Fulford lay there; and herself endeavour to see Dean Colet, who was sure to be at home, as he was hardly recovered from an attack of the prevalent disorder.
Moreover, the Fire-eater had an eye to little Perronel, though her mother had never let him train her scarce let him set an eye on her; and when Mistress Fulford died, poor soul, of ague, caught when we showed off before the merry Prior of Worcester, her last words were that Perronel should never be a glee-maiden.
They told the story to Perronel, who was on the whole elated by her husband's promotion, declaring that the King loved him well, and that he would soon come to his senses, though for a wise man, he certainly had too much of the fool, even as he had too much of the wise man for the fool.
There was nothing that she would not do when asked, or when she saw that it would save trouble to good mother Perronel, of whom she was very fond, and she seemed serene and contented, never wanting to go abroad; but she was very silent, and Perronel declared herself never to have seen any living woman so perfectly satisfied to do nothing.
"Here they be! here be the poor lads, Pernel mine." She held out her hand, and offered a round comfortable cheek to each, saying, "Welcome to London, young gentlemen." Good Mistress Perronel did not look exactly the stuff to make a glee-maiden of, nor even the beauty for whom to sacrifice everything, even liberty and respect.
Aldonza's beautiful and peculiar contour of head and face rose among the round chubby English faces like a jessamine among daisies, and at that moment she was undertaking, with an exquisite smile, the care of the gown that Giles laid at her feet, ere making his venture. "There!" said Perronel. "Mark that look on her face! I never see it save for that same youngster.
Yea, and if he have come late, he is the better loved, though I trow Perronel there will ever look on Ambrose as her eldest son." "And by my troth, he needs good country diet and air!" cried Perronel. "Thou hast had none to take care of thee, Ambrose. They have let thee pine and dwine over thy books. I must take thee in hand."
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