"I thank you for the compliment, Mistress Murthwaite," said Hans, laughingly. "But truly, as for my wit, I should be very ill-set to spare half of it; and as for my goodness, I wish him far more of his own." "Where dwells this friend of thine, Hans?" inquired Lady Louvaine. "What is his name? and what craft doth he follow?" "He dwells near, Madam, in Broad Saint Giles'; his name, Andrew Leigh, and is a silkman." "We shall miss thee, my boy," said Edith. "Mrs Edith, that was the only one point that made me to doubt if I should take Master Leigh's offer or no. If my personal service be of more value to you than my maintenance is a burden, I pray you tell it me: but if not--" "We never yet reckoned thy maintenance a burden, my dear," answered Lady Louvaine, lovingly. "And indeed we shall miss thee more than a little. Nevertheless, Hans, I think thou hast wisely judged. There is thine own future to look to: and though, in very deed, I am sorry that life offer thee no fairer opening, yet the Lord wot best that which shall be best for thee. Ay, Hans: thou wilt do well to take the offer." But there were tears in her eyes as she spoke. The old feudal estimate was still strong in men's minds, by which the most honourable of all callings was held to be domestic service; then, trade and handicraft; and, lowest and meanest of all, those occupations by which men were not fed, clothed, nor instructed, but merely amused. Musicians, painters, poetasters, and above all, actors, were looked on as the very dregs of mankind. The views of the old Lollards, who held that art, not having existed in Paradise, was a product of the serpent, had descended to the Puritans in a modified form. Was it surprising, when on every side they saw the serpent pressing the arts and sciences into his service? It was only in the general chaos of the Restoration that this estimate was reversed. The view of the world at present is exactly opposite: and the view taken by the Church is too often that of the world. Surely the dignity of labour is lost when men labour to produce folly, and call it work. There can be no greater waste either of time, money, or toil, than to expend them on that which satisfieth not. When Hans came home, a day or two afterwards, he went straight to Lady Louvaine and kissed her hand. "Madam," said he, in a low voice of much satisfaction, "I bring good news. I have covenanted with Mr Leigh, who has most nobly granted me, at my request, a rare favour unto a 'prentice--leave to come home when the shop is closed, and to lie here, so long as I am every morrow at my work by six of the clock. I can yet do many little things that may save you pain and toil, and I shall hear every even of your welfare." "My dear lad, God bless thee!" replied Lady Louvaine, and laid her hand upon his head. Somewhat later in the evening came Aubrey, to whom all this concerning Hans was news.