ey and then at Temperance, as
though she marvelled what it all meant. Edith said, laughingly--

"Why, Aubrey, what hast thou done, my boy, so to vex thine aunt?" and
Faith, throwing down her work, rose and came to Aubrey.

"My darling! my poor little boy!" she cried, as a nurse might to a
child; but Faith's blandishment was real, while Temperance's was
mockery.

All Aunt Temperance's mocking, nevertheless, provoked Aubrey less than
his mother's reality. He flushed red again, and looked ready to weep,
had it been less unmanly. Temperance took care not to lose her chance.

"Ay, poor little boy!" said she. "Prithee, Faith, take him on thy lap
and cuddle him, and dandle him well, and sing him a song o' sixpence.
Oh, my little rogue, my pretty bird! well, then, it shall have a new
coral, it shall--Now, Madam, pray you look on this piece of wastry!
(Dear heart, but a fool and his money be soon parted!) What think you
'tis like?"

"Truly, my dear, that cannot I say," replied Lady Louvaine, looking at
the pipe as Temperance held it out: "but either that or somewhat else,
it strikes me, hath a marvellous ill savour."

"Ill savour, Madam!" cried Temperance. "Would you even such mean scents
as roses and lilies to this celestial odour? Truly, this must it be the
angels put in their pouncet-boxes. I am informed of my Lord of Tobago
here that all the gentlemen of the Court do use to perfume their velvets
with it."

"Well, I can tell you of two which so do," said Aubrey in a nettled
fashion--"my Lord of Northumberland and Sir Walter Raleigh: and you'll
not call them fools, Aunt Temperance."

"I'll give you a bit of advice, Mr Louvaine: and that is, not to lay
your week's wages out in wagers what I shall do. I call any man fool
that is given to folly: and as to this filthy business, I should scarce
stick at the King's Majesty himself."

"Nay, the King is clean contrary thereto," saith Aubrey, with a rather
unwilling air: "I hear of my Lord that he saith it soils the inward
parts of men with oily soot, and is loathsome to the eye, hateful to the
nose, harmful to the brain, dangerous to the lungs, counted effeminate
among the Indians themselves, and by the Spanish slaves called sauce for
Lutheran curs."

"Well, on my word!" cried Aunt Temperance. "And knowing this, thou
Lutheran cur, thou wilt yet soil thine inward parts with this oily
soot?"

"Oh, Aunt, every one so doth."

Lady Louvaine and Edith exchanged sor