“But they tell me this great pestilence is bringing trouble on you, Dorothy,” began Edith, with embarrassment. “And if it bring trouble, Mistress Edith, we must e’en seek strength to bear it,” said the woman, with a spasmodic motion of the head. “I know not that we have been heard to complain.” “Nay, nay, I meant not so,” said Edith; “it was, I heard--and pray you think I only speak of it in all kindness--I heard that because the great masters and the court were flying from town, there was like to be lack of labor, and perchance want; and so I came to say, Dorothy, that if you wanted aught, or your father, or your sisters, that I have wherewith to help you; and that was all.” “And truly I crave your pardon, Mistress Edith,” said Dorothy, her features moving hysterically, “if I did speak in haste, not thinking what I said--for it is a sad time--ay, doubtless, a time of great fear, and trouble, and darkness; and it is true that Master Featherstone has gone away, and there is no more work for us; and our Phœbe, who was in the great house, up by Westminster, has come home to us this morning, because her lady hath fled into Kent, and could not take all her women with her; and without doubt it is a hard time. I will think upon your kindness, Mistress Edith, and heartily thank you, that had the thought of coming to us, who deserved not any remembrance at your hands: but now, I thank Providence, we need not any thing. God forgive me! I meant of silver or gold--for we have yet enough of that; and truly for such things as health and safety, they are not to be got in mortal gift.” “But you have not heard of the distemper coming hither, Dorothy?” asked Edith. “The Almighty knows; who can answer for it, whether it will come or stay.” “Dorothy!” cried a sharp voice in the passage behind her, shrill and broken with excitement and fear, “look to Phœbe. Lord have mercy! what is coming upon us?” “It is naught,” said Dorothy, with forced composure, looking fixedly in Edith’s face. “She is grieved for the loss of her mistress, foolish girl, and hath made her head ache with weeping. I thank you heartily, Mistress Edith, and bid you good-morrow.” The door was closed; with a thrill of fear, which she could not suppress, Edith went on. The day was considerably advanced before she returned home. She had met with much poverty, but no traces of the pestilence, and had been followed by many thanks and blessings from miserable households to whom her gifts imparted some new hope. She found her father busied with plans for his especial work, and beside him lay another letter from Master Godliman, intimating that his gift should be renewed from time to time. All that these men could do of Christian zeal and liberality, patience and fortitude, were at work to mitigate the severity of the judgment, and they did much; but what was it all before the mighty advancing tide of God’s wrath and vengeance? CHAPTER VI.