The next minute he was gone. "Agnes, sweet-heart!" demanded Dorothy that evening, in the sugary style which she only used when she was in a particularly tormenting mood, "prithee do me to wit of the name of thy dear friend, Master Black Friar? I beheld him and thee in so sweet converse at the Cross, it caused me to sigh that I had no such a friend as he. I pray thee lovingly of his goodly name?" The answers which Dorothy usually received from Agnes to questions of this kind were as short as civility permitted. "Master John Laurence," said she. "And how long hast been of his cognisance, sweeting?" demanded Dorothy, with more honey on her tongue than ever. "I have wist him some six weeks," said Agnes. "Six weeks! woe worth the day!" cried Dorothy, putting on an aspect of sentimental sorrow. "And thou never spakest word, when thou wist how dear all we do love thee, and the least we might do for joy of thy finding a new friend were to have the great bell rung at Paul's! Agnes, my fairest one, this is to entreat us but evil." Agnes held her peace. She never felt any doubt of the exceedingly low price to be set upon Dorothy's affections towards her. "Is he a priest, darling?" inquired Dorothy in her most coaxing tone. "Ay," replied Agnes as curtly as before. "Good lack, how delightsome!" exclaimed Dorothy, clasping her hands in mock rapture. "Do, of thy sweet gentlehood, bring me of his cognisance. But to think what it were to have a priest thy friend, and alway get absolution without no trouble at all!" But about the last thing which Agnes had any intention of doing was to introduce Dorothy to John Laurence.