en boughs, poured water
from their bills. Marmaduke, much astonished and bewildered, muttered
a paternoster in great haste; and even the clerical rank of the prelate
did not preserve him from the suspicion of magical practices in the
youth's mind.

Remote from all his train, in a little arbour overgrown with the
honeysuckle and white rose, a small table before him bearing fruits,
confectionery, and spiced wines (for the prelate was a celebrated
epicure, though still in the glow of youth), they found George Nevile,
reading lazily a Latin manuscript.

"Well, my dear lord and brother," said Montagu, laying his arm on the
prelate's shoulder, "first let me present to thy favour a gallant youth,
Marmaduke Nevile, worthy his name and thy love."

"He is welcome, Montagu, to our poor house," said the archbishop,
rising, and complacently glancing at his palace, splendidly gleaming
through the trellis-work. "'Puer ingenui vultus.' Thou art acquainted,
doubtless, young sir, with the Humaner Letters?"

"Well-a-day, my lord, my nurturing was somewhat neglected in the
province," said Marmaduke, disconcerted, and deeply blushing, "and only
of late have I deemed the languages fit study for those not reared for
our Mother Church."

"Fie, sir, fie! Correct that error, I pray thee. Latin teaches the
courtier how to thrive, the soldier how to manoeuvre, the husbandman
how to sow; and if we churchmen are more cunning, as the profane call us
(and the prelate smiled) than ye of the laity, the Latin must answer for
the sins of our learning."

With this, the archbishop passed his arm affectionately through his
brother's, and said, "Beshrew me, Montagu, thou lookest worn and weary.
Surely thou lackest food, and supper shall be hastened. Even I, who have
but slender appetite, grow hungered in these cool gloaming hours."

"Dismiss my comrade, George,--I would speak to thee," whispered Montagu.

"Thou knowest not Latin?" said the archbishop, turning with a
compassionate eye to Nevile, whose own eye was amorously fixed on the
delicate confectioneries,--"never too late to learn. Hold, here is a
grammar of the verbs, that, with mine own hand, I have drawn up for
youth. Study thine amo and thy moneo, while I confer on Church matters
with giddy Montagu. I shall expect, ere we sup, that thou wilt have
mastered the first tenses."

"But--"

"Oh, nay, nay; but me no buts. Thou art too tough, I fear me, for
flagellation, a wondrous improver of te