"Thou wert so good as to tell us three mornings gone," saith she, "that thine income was three hundred pound by the year. Right interesting it were, for I never knew the figure aforetime." "Well?" saith _Father_, laughing. "But I hope," continueth she, "thou didst not forget (what thou didst know aforetime) that mine is two thousand." "My dear _Joyce_!" saith _Father_, and held forth his hand. "My true sister! I will not pretend to lack knowledge of thy meaning. Thou wouldst have me draw on thee for help to pay _Walter's_ debts--" "Nay, not so," saith she, "for I would pay them all out. Look thou, to do the same at once should inconvenience me but a trifle, and to do it at twice, nothing at all." "But, dear _Joyce_, I cannot," quoth he. "Nay, not for thy sake--I know thou wouldst little allow such a plea--but for _Walter's_ own. To do thus should be something to ease myself, at the cost of a precious lesson that might last him his whole life." "I take thy meaning," saith she, "yet I cannot sleep at ease if I do not somewhat. Give me leave to help a little, if no more. Might not that be done, yet leave _Wat_ his lesson?" "Well, dear heart, this I promise thee," saith _Father_, "that in case we go a-begging, we will come first to the _Manor House_ at _Minster Lovel_." "After which you shall get no farther," saith Aunt _Joyce_. "But I want more than that, _Aubrey_. I would not of my good will tarry to help till thou and _Lettice_ be gone a-begging. I can give the maids a gown-piece by now and then, of course, and so ease my mind enough to get an half-hour's nap: but what am I to do for a night's rest?" _Father_ laughed. "Come, a word in thine ear," saith he. Aunt _Joyce_ bent her head down, but then pursed up her lips as though she were but half satisfied at last. "Will that not serve?" saith _Father_, smiling on her. "Ay, so far as it goeth," she made answer: "yet it is but an if, _Aubrey_?" "Life is a chain of ifs, dear _Joyce_," saith he. "Truth," saith she, and stood a moment as if meditating. "Well," saith she at last, "`half a loaf is better than no bread at all,' so I reckon I must be content with what I have. But if I send thee an whole flock of sheep one day, and to _Lettice_ the next an hundred ells of velvet, prithee be not astonied." _Father_ laughed, and said nought of that sort should ever astonish him, for he knew Aunt _Joyce_ by far too well. SELWICK HALL, MARCH YE IX. We were sat this morrow all in the little chamber at work, and I somewhat marvelled what was ado with _Mother_, for smiles kept ever and anon flitting across her face, as though she were mighty diverted with the flax she was spinning: and I guessed her thoughts should be occupying somewhat that was of mirthful sort. At last saith Aunt _Joyce_:--