"Amen, and Amen!" said Aunt Edith. "My Lettice, let us abide in the world where God is King and Father, and Sun, and Water of Life. May that other world where Satan rules ever be another and a strange world to thee, wherein thou shalt feel thyself a traveller and a stranger. My child, there is very much merriment which hath nought to do with happiness, and very much happiness which hath nought to do with mirth. 'Tis one thing to shut ourselves from God's world which He made, and quite another to keep our feet away from Satan's world which he hath ruined. When God saith, `Love not the world,' He means not, Love not flowers, and song-birds, and bright colours, and sunset skies, and the innocent laughter of little children. Those belong to His world; and 'tis only as we take them out thereof, and hand them unto Satan, and they get into the Devil's world, that they become evil and hurtful unto us. Satan hath ruined, and will yet, so far as he may, all the good things of God; and beware of the most innocent-seeming thing so soon as thou shalt see his touch, upon it. Thank God, my darling, that He suffered thee not to shut thine eyes thereto! Was Aubrey there, Lettice?" "He came but late, Aunt, and therefore it was, I suppose, that as it seemed, he had no list to come with me. He said he might look in, perchance, at after." "And Mr Tom Rookwood?" "Ay, he was there, though I saw scarce anything of him but just at first." Edith was privately glad to hear it. She had been a little afraid of designs upon Lettice from that quarter. "Aunt, was it not rude to give nicknames?" "Very rude, and very uncomely, Lettice." "I thought it was horrid!" said Lettice. "Louvaine," Tom Rookwood was saying, next door, "I met Mr Tom Winter this afternoon, and he asked me if you had gone to the Low Countries to take service under the Archduke. He hath seen nought of you, saith he, these three weeks." "I know it," said Aubrey, sulkily. "Well, he told me to bid you to supper with him o' Thursday even next. I shall be there, and Sir Josceline Percy, Sir Edward Bushell, and Mr Kit Wright." "I can't. Wish I could." "Why, what's to hinder?" "Oh, I'm--ah--promised beforehand," said Aubrey, clumsily. "Can't you get off?" "_No_. But I've as great a mind to go--" "You come, and never mind the other fellows. You'll find us much jollier grigs of the twain." "I know that. Hang it, Tom, I'll go!" "There's a brave lad! Four o'clock sharp, at the Duck. I'll meet you there." "Done!" "Where was he promised, I marvel?" asked Dorothy in a whisper, with a yawn behind her hand. "Oh, didn't you see how he flushed and stammered?" said Gertrude, laughing. "I vow, I do believe old Knitting-pins had made him swear on her big Bible that he wouldn't speak another word to Mr Winter. Had it been but another merry-making, he should never have looked thus."