have not seen them this
some time."

The next question put to him was the one that Aubrey was expecting, with
an expectation which caused his irritability.

"What said my Lady Oxford to the matter, Aubrey?"

"Truly, Madam, I have not yet made the inquiration. My Lady is at this
time full of business, and seeing my friends were away, I thought you
should not require haste."

Aubrey's conscience stirred a little uneasily, and he said to it, "Be
quiet! I have not told any falsehood."

"I would not have you to chafe your Lady, if she have no time to
listen," said Lady Louvaine, with a disappointed look: "but indeed,
Aubrey, the matter must be seen to, and not done by halves, moreover."

A rap at the door preceded Charity, who came to announce Mrs Abbott--a
ceremony always used at the White Bear, but entirely unnecessary in the
eyes of the lady of the Angel.

"Well, what think you?" she began, before her greetings were well over;
for Mistress Abbott was a genuine Athenian, who spent all her leisure
hours, and some hours when she should not have been at leisure, in first
gathering information, and then retailing it, not having any special
care to ascertain its accuracy. "Well, what think you? Here be three
of our neighbours to be presented by the street wardens--Lewce, the
baker, for that they cannot keep his pigs out of the King's Street; Joan
Cotton the silkwoman as a sower of strife amongst her neighbours; and
Adrian Sewell for unlawfully following the trade of a tailor."

"Why, that is thy tailor, Aubrey!" exclaimed Aunt Temperance. "I trust
thou art not deep in his books?"

"Never a whit, Aunt; I owe him ne'er a penny," said Aubrey, flushing,
and not adding that Mr William Patrick's books were separate volumes,
nor that those of Nathan Cohen, in Knightriders' Street, were not
entirely guiltless of his name.

"Ay, that's the way," said Mrs Abbott, nodding her head. "Pay as you
go, and keep from small scores. Truly I would, Mr Louvaine, our
Stephen were as wise as you. Such a bill as came in this week past from
a silkman in Paternoster Row! White satin collars at eight and ten
shillings the piece, and a doublet of the same at two pound; curled
feathers, and velvet doublets, and perfumed gloves at twenty pence or
more. His father's in a heavy taking, I can tell you, and saith he
shall be ruined. Look you, we've four lads, and here's Stephen a-going
this path--and if Seth and Caleb and Ben just go alo