d--such as singing, making of anagrams, guessing of riddles, and
so forth. There is my day."

"Forsooth, and a useless one it is," commented she. "The law-books and
the Parliament business seem the only decent things in it."

"Ah, 'tis full little changed," remarked Lady Louvaine, "these sixty
years since I dwelt at Surrey Place." And she sighed.

"Temperance, I am astonished at you," interposed Faith. "You do nought
save fault-find poor Aubrey."

"Poor Aubrey! ay, that he is," returned his Aunt, "and like to be a
sight poorer, for all that I can see. If you'll fault-find him a bit
more, Faith, there'll not be so much left for me to do."

"What is the matter?" asked Edith, coming softly in.

"There's a pair of velvet pantofles and an other of silken hose the
matter, my dear," answered Temperance, "and a beaver hat with a brave
blue feather in it. I trust you admire them as they deserve, and him
likewise that weareth them."

"They are brave, indeed," said Edith, in her quiet voice. "I would fain
hope it is as fair within as without, my boy."

She looked up in his face as she spoke with yearning love in her eyes;
and as Aubrey bent his head to kiss her, he said, in the softest tone
which he had yet employed since his entrance, "I am afraid not, Aunt
Edith."

And Edith answered, in that low, tender voice--

"`Thy beauty was perfect through My comeliness which I had put upon
thee.' Dear Aubrey, let us seek that."

Aubrey made no answer beyond a smile, and quickly turned the
conversation, on his mother asking if he brought any news.

"But little," said he. "There be new laws against witchcraft, which is
grown greater and more used than of old, and the King is mightily set
against it--folks say he is afraid of it. None should think, I ensure
you, how easily frightened is his Majesty, and of matters that should
never fright any save a child."

"But that is not news, Aubrey," said his mother plaintively. "I want to
hear something new."

"There isn't an artichoke in the market this morrow," suddenly remarked
her sister.

"Temperance, what do you mean?"

"Why, that's news, isn't it? I am sure you did not know it, till I told
you."

Mrs Louvaine closed her eyes with an air of deeply-tried forbearance.

"Come, lad, out with thy news," added Temperance. "Wherewith hath my
Lady guarded her new spring gowns? That shall serve, I reckon."

Aubrey laughed. "I have not seen them yet, Aunt. But I hea