“Nay, I say not thou knowest,” said the shepherd’s wife; “but prithee make thy pace slower, Mistress Edith, for my breath fails me. I had a light foot enow in my day; alack, but that bides not forever! But, as I say, it is e’en as well that we be behind yonder gallant, for an thou knowest him not, it is as well for thee; and thou might’st, if thou did’st see him near at hand; and there is a wrong done between his house and thine, Mistress Edith, that it would but grieve thee to hear of. Alas, thy blessed mother! Well, surely it is a dark world, for yonder proud lady hath all she lacks, and does naught in this earth, but waste and spend, and harden the heart of her;--and the other gentle face is in its grave many a year ago. Well-a-day!” “What is that, Dame Dutton?” asked Edith, eagerly. “An thy father told thee not, Mistress Edith,” said the Dame, “it is none of my business to tell thee; and forsooth it is just and right that there should be little mentioning of old wrongs among folk that strive to fear God; for thou knowest the carnal mind is fain to have something against its neighbor, and it is not aye we do well to be angry. He was but an ill body, that prophet Jonah, that could set up his face to say the like.” “But I am not angry, dame,” said Edith. “Tell me this--tell me about my mother.” “Ay, and what could I tell thee of her, sweet soul, but what was good and pleasant? She was like thee, Mistress Edith--nay, for that matter, the other lady was well favored enow. Thou could’st see at a glance they were gentlefolks, and come of good blood, but they were none like each other, for all their kindred. Alack! folk thought it a poor lot for her, when she wedded the minister, but it might have been a good lot if there had been no bad laws. Well, we know not who may be hearing us, but this is a distressed land and a dark; and I would there might come better times in my day, for it’s hard upon old folk to have to go dozens of miles ere they can hear a preaching, and Raaf gets to limp now when the road’s long, and I’m sadly hampered with the breath. But any way we may be thankful that there’s no word of such a scourge as that plague coming hereaway, or of us canny Cumberland folk being cut down upon the hills, as they do the Scots. But we mind our troubles more than our mercies!” CHAPTER II. “When I view abroad both regiments, The world’s and thine, Thine clad with simpleness and sad events, The other, fine-- Full of glory and gay weeds, Brave language--braver deeds!” GEORGE HERBERT.