would but keep close to Holy Scripture, there would be no heresies."

"Well, it sounds like reason, doesn't it?" answered Isel with a sigh.

"But I remember his saying also," pursued Derette, "that where one man
followed reason and Scripture, ten listened to other men's voices, and
ten more to their own fancies."

Dusk was approaching on the following day, when a rap came on the door
of the anchorhold, and a voice said--

"Leuesa, pray you, ask my cousin to come to the casement a moment."

"Stephen!" cried Derette, hurrying to her little window when she heard
his voice. "So you have come back!"

"Shall I go now, Lady, for the fresh fish?" asked Leuesa, very
conveniently for Stephen, who wondered if she good-naturedly guessed
that he had a private communication to make.

"Do," said Derette, giving her three silver pennies.

As soon as Leuesa was out of hearing, Stephen said--"I am only here for
a few hours, Derette, and nobody knows it save my Lord, you, and my
brother. I have obtained my discharge, and return to London with the
dawn."

"Are you not meaning to come back, Stephen? Folks are saying that."

"Folks are saying truth. I shall live in London henceforth. But
remember, Derette, that is a secret."

"I shall not utter it, Stephen. Truly, I wish you all happiness, but I
cannot help being sorry."

There were tears in Derette's eyes. Stephen had ever been more
brotherly to her than her own brothers. It was Stephen who had begged
her off from many a punishment, had helped her over many a difficulty,
had made her rush baskets and wooden boats, and had always had a
sweetmeat in his pocket for her in childhood. She was grieved to think
of losing him.

"You may well wish me happiness in my honeymoon," he said, laughingly.

"Are you married? Why, when--O Stephen, Stephen! is it Ermine?"

"You are a first-rate guesser, little one. Yes, I have Ermine safe; and
I will keep her so, God helping me."

"I am so glad, Steenie!" said Derette, falling into the use of the old
pet name, generally laid aside now. "Tell Ermine I am so glad to hear
that, and so sorry to lose you both: but I will pray God and the saints
to bless you as long as I live, and that will be better for you than our
meeting, though it will not be the same thing to me."

"`So glad, and so sorry!' It seems to me, Cousin, that's no inapt
picture of life. God keep thee!--to the day when--Ermine says--it will
be all `glad' and no `so