lled
me to come with her to _Nanny_, I made none ado, but tied on mine hood
and went.

We found old _Nanny_--that is too infirm for aught but to sit of a chair
in the sunshine--so doing by the window, beside her a little table, and
thereon a great Bible open, with her spectacles of her nose, that she
pulled off and wiped, and set down of the book to keep her place.

"Well, _Nanny_!" saith Aunt _Joyce_. "`Sitting down under His shadow,'
dear heart?"

"Ay, Mistress _Joyce_," saith she, "and `with great delight.'"

I marvel if old folk do really like to read the Bible. I never did.
And the older I grow, the lesser doth it like me. Can they mean it,
trow? If they do, then I suppose I shall like it when I am as old as
_Nanny_. But, good lack! what gloomsome manner of life must that be,
wherein one shall find one's diversion in reading of the Bible!

I know _Father_ and _Mother_ would say clean contrary. But they, see
you, were bred up never to see a Bible in _English_ till they were
grown: which is as different as can be to the like of us maids, that
never knew the day when it lay not of the hall table. But therein runs
my pen too fast, for _Anstace_ can well remember Queen _Mary's_ time,
though _Nell_ scarce can do so,--only some few matters here and there.

So then Aunt _Joyce_ and _Nan_ fell a-talking,--and scarce so much as a
word could I conceive. [Note 1.] They might well-nigh as good have
talked _Greek_ for me. Yet one matter will I set down the which I mean
to think o'er--some time, when I am come to divert me with the Bible,
and am as old as _Nanny_. Not now, of course.

"Where art reading, _Nanny_?" saith Aunt _Joyce_.

"In _Esaias_, Mistress _Joyce_. Fifty-eighth chapter, first and second
verses. There's fine reading in _Esaias_."

"Ay, _Nan_, there is," saith Aunt _Joyce_. "But what toucheth it? I am
ill set to remember chapter and verse."

"Well, Mistress, first it saith, `Show My people their transgression.'
And i' th' very next verse,--`Yet they seek me daily,'--nay, there's
more--`they take delight in approaching to God.'"

"Well, _Nan_? That reads strange,--no doth it?"

"Ah, it doth, Mistress _Joyce_. But I think, look ye, there's a deal i'
th' word _approaching_. See ye, it saith not they take delight to get
near. Nay, folk o' that make has a care not to get too near. They'll
lay down a chalk line, and they'll stop outside on't. If they'd only
come near enough, th' light