And then she was
silent.

The lad, beginning to perceive he had given deep offence, stood stock
still--as if his brave will had brought him into this presence, and
impelled him to confession, and the best amends he could make, but had
now deserted him, or was extinct, and left his body motionless, until
some one else with word or deed made him quit the room. My lady looked
again at him, and saw the frowning, dumb-foundering terror at his
misdeed, and the manner in which his confession had been received.

"My poor lad!" said she, the angry look leaving her face, "into whose
hands have you fallen?"

The boy's lips began to quiver.

"Don't you know what tree we read of in Genesis?--No! I hope you have
not got to read so easily as that." A pause. "Who has taught you to
read and write?"

"Please, my lady, I meant no harm, my lady." He was fairly blubbering,
overcome by her evident feeling of dismay and regret, the soft repression
of which was more frightening to him than any strong or violent words
would have been.

"Who taught you, I ask?"

"It were Mr. Horner's clerk who learned me, my lady."

"And did Mr. Horner know of it?"

"Yes, my lady. And I am sure I thought for to please him."

"Well! perhaps you were not to blame for that. But I wonder at Mr.
Horner. However, my boy, as you have got possession of edge-tools, you
must have some rules how to use them. Did you never hear that you were
not to open letters?"

"Please, my lady, it were open. Mr. Horner forgot for to seal it, in his
hurry to be off."

"But you must not read letters that are not intended for you. You must
never try to read any letters that are not directed to you, even if they
be open before you."

"Please, may lady, I thought it were good for practice, all as one as a
book."

My lady looked bewildered as to what way she could farther explain to him
the laws of honour as regarded letters.

"You would not listen, I am sure," said she, "to anything you were not
intended to hear?"

He hesitated for a moment, partly because he did not fully comprehend the
question. My lady repeated it. The light of intelligence came into his
eager eyes, and I could see that he was not certain if he could tell the
truth.

"Please, my lady, I always hearken when I hear folk talking secrets; but
I mean no harm."

My poor lady sighed: she was not prepared to begin a long way off in
morals. Honour was, to her, second nature, and she had nev