," retorted Endicott, "the requiring of people vowed to
the Lord, to dress themselves in a plain and unpretentious manner, a
burden too heavy to be borne?"

"Gentlemen," said Winthrop, "ye be both in the right, _Procul dubio_,
it becomes us, of all men, to apparel ourselves in a sober manner, as
thus protesting against the foolish vanities of the world, and yet is
it in some sort a burden, to be required to change the fashion of our
garments."

"I perceive, already, with much sadness of heart," said Endicott, "a
declension in that strictness of regimen which marked the earlier
time. Have ye not heard of the godly man who, long time, had been
prisoner at Norwich for the cause, and was by Judge Cook set at
liberty? Now, this man, desiring to go into the Low Countries by ship
from Yarmouth, did turn into the house of an ancient woman in the
city, who had been very kind and helpful to him in his sufferings, in
order to return thanks, and she knowing his voice, made him welcome.
But when he was ready to depart, she came up to him and felt of his
band, (for her eyes were dim with age,) and perceiving it was somewhat
stiffened with starch, she was much displeased, and reproved him very
sharply, fearing God would not prosper his journey. Yet was the man a
plain countryman, clad in grey russet, without either welt or guard,
(as the proverb is,) and the band he wore scarce worth three pence,
made of their own homespinning. What would such professors, if they
were now living, say to the excess of our times?"

"Thy tale," said Dudley, a little sarcastically, "reproaches thine own
band."

"I did instance this case," replied Endicott, slightly abashed, "not
as acknowledging myself literally bound to accept it as a guide for
mine own conduct, but for the wholesome admonition therein contained."

"That is to say," returned Dudley, "inasmuch as it jumps not with thy
humor, thou wilt none of it; but being fitted, as thou conceivest, to
reproach us withal, thou dost accept it." But having sufficiently
annoyed the other, he added, by way of makepeace, "there is one custom
which my soul abhors, and against the which I desire with thee, Master
Endicott, to bear my testimony, and that is the coming of women
unveiled into the congregation. I remember that the venerable Countess
of Lincoln had a falling veil to conceal her features, when she came
into the house of the Lord, to worship with his people."

In spite of himself, a smile passe