Then come matins, which one has to sit through, of course: the only good matter being the chants. I can sing out, and I do. Then come the sermon, which is unto me sore weariness, and I gape through it as I best may. Dear heart, what matter is it to me if _Peter_ were ever at _Rome_ or no, or if Saint _James_ and _Paul_ do both say the same thing touching faith and works? We have all faith--say we not the Creed every _Sunday_? and what would you have more? And as to works, I hate good works. Good works always means doing the very thing you would rather not. 'Tis good works to carry a pudding to old _Nanny Crewdson_ through a lane where I nigh lose my shoes in the mire, right at the time when I want to bide at home and play the virginals. Or 'tis sitting of a chair and reading of _Luther's_ Commentary on the _Galatians_ to one of my betters, when my very toes be tingling to be out in the sunshine. Good lack, but I do owe a pretty penny to Master Doctor _Luther_ for that commentary! I have had to sit and read it a good score of times when it should have done me marvellous ease to have boxed his ears with it. Had I been Mistress _Katherine_, it should have gone hard with me but I would have pulled Master Doctor out of his study, and made him lake with little _Jack_ and _Maudlin_, in the stead of toiling o'er yon old musty commentary. _Nell_ saith she loveth to read it. In good sooth, but I wish she may! Well! matins o'er, come the communion, for which all tarried but _Edith_; she, not being yet confirmed, is alway packed off ere it begin. And when that were o'er--and I do love the last _Amen_ of all--went all we to dinner with Mistress _Huthwaite_, at whose house we do ever dine of a _Sunday_: and mighty late it is of a communion _Sunday_; and I am well-nigh famished ere I break bread. And for dinner was corned beef and carrots, and for drink sherris-sack and muscadel. Then, at three o' the clock, all we again to church: and by the same token, if Dr _Meade_ gave us not two full hours of a sermon, then will I sell my gold chain for two pence. And at after church, in the porch were my Lord _Dilston_ and fair Mistress _Jane_; and my Lord was pleased to take _Father_ by the hand, and _Mother_ and Aunt _Joyce_ likewise; but did but kiss us maids. [Note 1.] But Mistress _Jane_ took us all three by the hand, and did say unto me that she would fain be better acquainted. And in very deed, it should be a feather in my cap were I to come unto close friendship with my Lord _Dilston_ his daughter, as I do right heartily trust I may. Nor, after all, were it any such great preferment for me, that am daughter unto Sir _Aubrey Louvaine_ of _Selwick_ Hall, Knight, which is cousin unto my right honourable Lord the Earl of _Oxenford_, and not so far off neither. For my most honourable Lord, Sir _Aubrey de Vere_, sometime Earl of _Oxenford_, was great-great-great-grandfather unto my Lord that now is: and his sister, my Lady _Margaret_, wife to