nd the rough
walking shall be little matter to them that have reached home."

SELWICK HALL, MARCH YE XIII.
"_Walter_," saith _Father_ this even, "I have had a letter from my Lord
of _Oxenford_."

"You have so, Sir?" quoth he. "But not an answer to yours?"

"Ay, an answer to mine, having come down express with the Queen's
Majesty's despatches unto my Lord _Dacre_ of the North."

"But, _Aubrey_, that is quick work!" saith Aunt _Joyce_. "Why, I reckon
it cannot be over nine days sith thine were writ."

"Nor is it, _Joyce_," saith _Father_: "but look thou, I had rare
opportunities, since mine went with certain letters of my Lord _Dilston_
unto Sir _Francis Walsingham_."

"Well, I never heard no such a thing!" crieth she. "To send a letter to
_London_ from _Cumberland_, and have back an answer in nine days!"

"'Tis uncommon rapid, surely," saith _Father_. "Well, _Walter_, my
boy--for thine eyes ask the question, though thy tongue be still--my
Lord of _Oxenford_ hath loosed thee from thine obligations, yet he
speaks very kindlily of thee, as of a servant [Note 3] whom he is right
sorry to lose."

"You told him, _Father_,"--and _Wat_ brake off short.

"I told him, my lad," saith _Father_, laying of his hand upon _Walter's_
shoulder, "that I did desire to have thee to dwell at home a season: and
moreover that I heard divers matters touching the Court ways, which
little liked me."

"Was that all, _Aubrey_?" asks Aunt _Joyce_.

"Touching the cause thereof? Ay."

Then _Walter_ breaks forth, with that sudden, eager way he hath, which
Aunt _Joyce_ saith is from _Mother_.

"_Father_, I have not deserved such kindness from you! But I do desire
to say one thing--that I can see now it is better I were thence, though
it was sore trouble to me at the first: and (God helping me) I will
endeavour myself to deserve better in the future than I have done in the
past."

_Father_ held forth his hand, and _Wat_ put his in it.

"God helping thee, my son," saith he gravely. "I do in very deed trust
the same. Yet not without it, _Walter_!"

Somewhat like an hour thereafter, when Aunt _Joyce_ and I were alone,
she saith all suddenly, without a word of her thoughts aforetime--

"Ay, the lad is his father's son, after all. If he only could learn to
spell _Nay_!"

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Note 1. The reader is requested to remem