nd she fetched a
sigh.

"We should all soon be in Heaven," Aunt _Joyce_ made answer. "But thou
art right, _Dulcie_. He that shall leave to look to his chart till the
last hour of his journey is like to reach home very weary and worn, if
he come at all. He that will go straight on, and reckoneth to get home
after some fashion, is not like to knock at the gate ere it be shut up.
The easiest matter in all the world is to miss Heaven."

SELWICK HALL, MARCH YE XXV.
This morrow, _Milisent_ was avised to ask at _Walter_, in a tone
somewhat satirical, if he wist how his _Excellency_ did.

"Nay, _Milly_, mind me not of my follies, prithee," quoth he, flushing.

"Never cast a man's past ill-deeds in his face, _Milly_," softly saith
_Mother_. "His conscience (if it be awake) shall mind him of them oft
enough."

"I reckon she shall have forgotten by now how to spell his name," saith
_Father_. "There be many such at Court."

"Yet they have hearts in the Court, trow?" saith Aunt _Joyce_.

"A few," quoth _Father_. "But they mostly come forth thereof. For one
like my Lady of _Surrey_--(_Lettice_ will conceive me)--there is many a
Lady of _Richmond_."

"Oh, surely not, _Aubrey_!" crieth _Mother_, earnestly.

"True, dear heart," answereth he. "Let but a woman enter the Court--any
Court--and verily it should seem to change her heart to stone."

"Now, son of _Adam_!" saith Aunt _Joyce_.

"Well, daughter of _Eva_?" _Father_ makes answer.

"Casting the blame on the women," saith she. "Right so did _Adam_, and
all his sons have trod of his steps."

"I thought she deserved it," saith _Father_.

"She deserved it a deal less than he!" quoth Aunt _Joyce_, in an heat.
"He sinned with his eyes open, and she was deceived of the serpent."

"Look you, she blamed the serpent, belike," saith Sir _Robert_,
laughing.

"I take it, she was an epitome in little of all future women, as _Adam_
of all men to come," saith _Father_. "But, _Joyce_, methinks _Paul_
scarce beareth thee out."

"I have heard folks to say _Paul_ was not a woman's friend," saith Sir
_Robert_.

"That's not true," quoth Aunt _Joyce_.

"Why, how so, my mistress?" Sir _Robert_ makes merry answer. "He bade
them keep silence in the churches, and be subject to the men, and not to
teach: was that over courteous, think you?"

"Call me a _Frenchman_, if I stand that!" crieth Aunt _Joyce_. "Sir
_Robert Stafford_,