rowful looks, and the former said--

"Aubrey, my boy, no true man accounts that a worthy reason for his
deeds. It was true of the Israelites when they fell to worship the
golden calf, and of the scribes and priests when they cried, `Crucify
Him!' Hadst thou been in that crowd before Pontius Pilate, wouldst thou
have joined that cry?"

Edith went up to her mother, and said in a low voice, "May I tell him?"

Evidently it cost Lady Louvaine some pain to say "Yes," yet she said it.
Edith went back to her seat.

"Aubrey," she said, "four-and-twenty years gone, thine uncle, my brother
Walter, was what thou art now, in the very same office and household.
His wages were then sixteen pound by the year--"

"But mine are thirty-five, Aunt," responded Aubrey quickly, as though he
guessed what she was about to say.

"In order to be like every one else, Aubrey, and not come in bad odour
with his fellows, he spent well-nigh four hundred pound by the year,
and--"

"Uncle Walter!" cried Aubrey in amazement, and Lettice could have been
his echo.

"Ay!" said Edith, sadly. "And for over ten years thereafter was my
father so crippled with his debts, that I mind it being a fine treat
when I and my sisters had a new gown apiece, though of the commonest
serge, and all but bare necessaries were cut off from our board. Walter
laid it so to heart that of a spendthrift he became a miser. I would
not have thee so to do, but I bid thee mind that we have very little to
live on, owing all we yet have, and have brought withal, to the goodness
of my dear Aunt Joyce; and if thou fall in such ways, Aubrey--"

"Dear heart, Aunt! Think you I have no wit?"

"Thou hast not an ill wit, my lad," said Aunt Temperance, "if a wise man
had the keeping of it."

"Temperance, you are so unfeeling!" exclaimed Faith. "Must I needs
stand up for my fatherless boy?"

"You'd ruin any lad you were mother to," answered her sister.

Hans now coming in, she set on him.

"Look here, Hans Floriszoon! Didst ever see any thing like this?"

Hans smiled. "Oh ay, Mistress Murthwaite, I have seen men to use them."

"Hast one of these fiddle-faddles thyself? or dost thou desire to have
one?"

"Neither, in good sooth," was his reply.

"There, Mr Louvaine! hearken, prithee."

"Hans is only a boy; I am a man," said Aubrey, loftily: though Hans was
but a year younger than himself.

"Lancaster and Derby! and are you then content, my Lord Man, that a
contemp