ith a look which had in it somewhat of
question and reply. His retinue of serving-women were filled with such
ardent pride in him that his chief nurse had much to do to keep the
peace among them, each wishing to be first with him, and being jealous
of another who made him laugh and crow and stretch forth his arms that
she might take him. The Commandress-in-Chief of the nurses was no
ordinary female. She was the widow of a poor chaplain--her name
Mistress Rebecca Halsell--and she gratefully rejoiced to have had the
happiness to fall into a place of such honour and responsibility. She
was of sober age, and being motherly as well as discreet, kept such
faithful watch over him as few children begin life under.

The figure of this good woman throughout his childhood stood out from
among all others surrounding him, with singular distinctness. She
seemed not like a servant, nor was she like any other in the household.
As he ripened in years, he realised that in his earliest memories of
her there was a recollection of a certain grave respect she had seemed
to pay him, and he saw it had been not mere deference but respect, as
though he had been a man in miniature, and one to whom, despite his
tender youth, dignity and reason should be qualities of nature, and
therefore might be demanded from him in all things. As early as thought
began to form itself clearly in him, he singled out Mistress Halsell as
a person to reflect upon. When he was too young to know wherefore, he
comprehended vaguely that she was of a world to which the rest of his
attendants did not belong. 'Twas not that she was of greatly superior
education and manners, since all those who waited upon him had been
carefully chosen; 'twas that she seemed to love him more gravely than
did the others, and to mean a deeper thing when she called him "my lord
Marquess." She was a pock-marked woman (she having taken the disease
from her late husband the Chaplain, who had died of that scourge), and
in her earliest bloom could have been but plainly favoured. She had a
large-boned frame, and but for a good and serious carriage would have
seemed awkward. She had, however, the good fortune to be the possessor
of a mellow voice, and to have clear grey eyes, set well and deep in
her head, and full of earnest meaning.

"Her I shall always remember," the young Marquess often said when he
had grown to be a man and was Duke, and had wife and children of his
own. "I loved to sit upon her