un not after no mans, nor no womans neider.
You keep your lady's counsel true and well, but you keep no secrets from
her. When any say to you, `Amphillis, you tell not your lady,' you say
to yourself, `I want noting to do wid you; I keep to myself, and I have
no secrets from my lady.' Dat is _gut_!"

"Mistress Regina, wot you who is the lady I am to serve?"

"I know noting, no more dan you--no, not de name of de lady you dis
evening saw. She came from de Savoy--so much know I, no more."

Amphillis knew that goldsmiths were very often the bankers of their
customers, and that their houses were a frequent rendezvous for business
interviews. It was, therefore, not strange at all that Regina should
not be further in the confidence of the lady in question.

"Now you shall not tarry no later," said Regina, kissing her. "You
serve well your lady, you pray to God, and you keep from de mans.
Good-night!"

"Your pardon granted, Mistress Regina, but you have not yet told me what
I need carry withal."

"_Ach so_! My head gather de wool, as you here say. Why, you take with
you raiment enough to begin--dat is all. Your lady find you gowns
after, and a saddle to ride, and all dat you need. Only de raiment to
begin, and de brains in de head--she shall not find you dat. Take wid
you as much of dem as you can get. Now run--de dark is _gekommen_."

It relieved Amphillis to find that she needed to carry nothing with, her
except clothes, brains, and prudence. The first she knew that her uncle
would supply; for the second, she could only take all she had; and as to
the last, she must do her best to cultivate it.

Mr Altham, on hearing the report, charged his daughters to see that
their cousin had every need supplied; and to do those young ladies
justice, they took fairly about half their share of the work, until the
day of the tournament, when they declared that nothing on earth should
make them touch a needle. Instead of which, they dressed themselves in
their best, and, escorted by Mr Clement Winkfield, were favoured by
permission to slip in at the garden door, and to squeeze into a corner
among the Duke's maids and grooms.

A very grand sight it was. In the royal stand sat the King, old Edward
the Third, scarcely yet touched by that pitiful imbecility which
troubled his closing days; and on his right hand sat the queen of the
jousts, the young Countess of Cambridge, bride of Prince Edmund, with
the Duke of Lancaster