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Updated: May 28, 2025
That it would, should, might, or could, be anything but a pleasure, never occurred either to the Archbishop or to Mr Altham. They would not have belonged to their century if it had done so. It was the afternoon of the ninth of March. No answer had been received from the Duke, and Perrote had almost lost hope. The Countess petulantly declined to allow any religious conversation in her chamber.
"Damoiselle Jeanne," said Perrote, using the royal title of Lady Basset's unmarried days; "may I pray you tell me if you have of late seen the Lord Duke your brother?" "Ay, within a year," said Lady Basset, listlessly. "Would it please you to say if King Edward letteth his coming?" "I think not so."
Perrote roused her young companion about four o'clock, with a reminder that if she were late it would produce a bad impression upon Lady Foljambe. When they were dressed, Perrote repeated the Rosary, Amphillis making the responses, and they went down to the hall. Breakfast was at this time a luxury not indulged in by every one, and it was not served before seven o'clock.
Perrote listened in vain for any answer. Psalm seventy-two, verses 4, 5, 8, 12, 13, 18, 19; Hereford and Purvey's version, 1381-8. Romans six, verse 16; Wycliffe's version, 1382. "Where we disavow Being keeper to our brother, we're his Cain." Elizabeth Barrett Browning. "Hylton, thou art weary gear!" "What ails me?" "What ails thee, forsooth? Marry, but that's as good a jest as I heard this year!
"Dame," said Perrote, "it was an attack upon the house." "An attack?" The Countess turned suddenly round, drawing her hair out of her tirewoman's hands. "After what fashion? thieves? robbers? foes? Come, tell me all about it." "I scantly know, Dame, how far I may lightly tell," said Perrote, uneasily. "It were better to await Sir Godfrey's return, ere much be said thereanentis."
And the very next day, Sir Walter Mauny made a sally, and destroyed the French battering-ram, and away fled the French King with ours in pursuit. Ha, that was a jolly sight to see! Old Perrote, hast thou forgot it all?" We are accustomed in the present day to speak of the deliverer of Hennebon as Sir Walter Manny.
I always fall on my feet like a cat, and have nine lives." "Nine lives come to an end some day," replied Sir Roland, grimly. "On what art thou a-thinking thus busily, Phyllis?" "Your pardon, Mistress Perrote; I was thinking of you." "Not hard to guess, when I saw thine eyes look divers times my ways. What anentis me, my maid?"
The Countess fixed her keen black eyes on her old attendant. "The which means," said she, "that the matter has too much ado with me that I should be suffered to know the inwards thereof. Perrote, was it that man essayed once more to free me? Thou mayest well tell me, for I know it. The angels whispered it to me as I lay in my bed." "My dear Lady, it was thus.
Will you not yet once entreat of my Lord Duke, being in England, to pay one visit to his dying mother?" "I wis not that she is dying. Folks commonly take less time over their dying than thus." Perrote, as it were, waved away the manner of the answer, and replied only to the matter. "Sir, she is dying, albeit very slowly. My Lady may linger divers weeks yet. Will you not send to my Lord?"
Mistress Perrote led the way into the room on the right, a pleasant chamber, which looked out into the larger garden. At the further end of the room stood a large bed of blue camlet, with a canopy, worked with fighting griffins in yellow. A large chest of carved oak stood at the foot.
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