"And it is true!" said Mrs Rose. "That will say, the joints be stiff, and the legs be weakened, and the fatigue is more and quicker: but I find not that thing within me, that men call my soul, to grow stiff nor weak. I laugh, I weep, I am astonied,--just all same as fifty years since. See you?" "Ah! you have kept much of the childly heart," answered Philippa smiling. "But for me, the main thing with me that is not stiff nor weak in me is anger and grief. Men be such flat fools--and women worser, if worse can be." Blanche opened her eyes in amazement Lysken looked amused. "Ah, good Mistress Philippa, I am one of the fools," said Mrs Rose with great simplicity. "I alway have so been." "Nay, _flog_ me with a discipline if you are!" returned Philippa heartily. "I meant not you, old friend. You are not by one-tenth part so much as--" Her eye fell on Blanche. "Come, I name none.--And thou art Frank Avery's daughter?" she added, turning suddenly to Lysken. "Come hither, Frances, and leave me look on thee." "My name is not Frances, good Mistress," replied Lysken, coming forward with a smile. "Isoult, then? It should be one or the other." "Nay--it is Elizabeth," said Lysken, with a shake of her head. "More shame for thee," retorted Philippa jokingly. "What business had any to call thee Elizabeth?" "My father's mother was Lysken Klaas." "Good.--Well, Thekla, I have looked this face o'er, and I can read no Avery therein." "'Tis all deep down in the heart," said Mrs Tremayne. "The best place for it," replied Philippa. "Thou wilt do, child, as methinks. I would say it were easier to break thy heart than to beguile thy conscience. A right good thing--for the conscience. Is this Clare?" she asked, breaking off suddenly as Clare came in, with a tone which showed that she felt most interest in her of the three. She took both Clare's hands and studied her face intently. "Walter's eyes," she said. "Isoult Barry's eyes! The maid could have none better. And John Avery's mouth. Truth and love in the eyes; honour and good learning on the lips. Thou wilt do, child, and that rarely well." "Mistress Philippa Basset is a right old friend of thy dear grandame, Clare," said Mrs Tremayne in explanation. "Thou canst not remember her, but this worthy gentlewoman doth well so, and can tell thee much of her when they were young maids together, and thy grandmother was gentlewoman unto Mistress Philippa her mother, my sometime Lady Viscountess Lisle." Clare looked interested, but she did not say much. Mr Tremayne and Arthur came in together, only just in time for four-hours. "God save thee, Robin dear!" was Philippa's greeting. "Art rested from Little Ease? I saw thee but slightly sithence, mind thou, and never had no good talk with thee." Mr Tremayne laughed more merrily than was usual with him. "Good Mistress Philippa, if thirty years were not enough to rest a man, in very deed he were sore aweary."