"Why, Cousin _Bess_," said I, "you shall be a _Brownist_ in a week or twain." "Nay, I'll be ruled by the law: but I reckon I may call out if it pinches," saith she. So, with mirth, we ended the matter: and thankful was I when the talk were o'er. SELWICK HALL, NOVEMBER YE XIX. I do keep my book right needfully locked up, for I would not for all the world that _Nell_ nor _Edith_ should read this last fortnight. Yester even, just as it grew to dusk, met I with my _Protection_ outside the garden door, that would fain win me to meet with him some whither on the hills, where (said he) we might talk more freely. But so feared was I to vex _Father_ and _Mother_ that this I did deny, though I could see it vexed him, and it went to mine heart to do thus. And he asked at me if I loved him not, and did very hard press me to say that I would love him: for he saith he loveth me better than all the world. Yet that would I not fully grant him, but plagued him a bit thereon. 'Tis rare fun plaguing a man. But methought I would try this even if I could not wring a fashion of consent out of _Father_, without his knowing the same: so when none was there but he and I and _Moses_, quoth I-- "_Father_, is it ever wrong to love any?" "`Love is of God,'" he made answer. "Surely no." And therewith should I have been content, and flattered me that I had _Father's_ assent to the loving of my _Protection_: but as ill luck would have it, he, that was going forth of the chamber, tarried, with the door in his hand, to say-- "But mind that it be very love, my maid. That is not love, but unlove, which will help a friend to break God's commandments." I had liefer he had let that last alone. It sticketh in my throat somewhat. Yet have I _Father's_ consent to loving: and surely none need break God's commandments because they love each other. 'Tis no breaking thereof for me to meet and talk with Sir _Edwin_--of that am I as certain as that my name is _Milisent_. And I have not told a single lie about it, sithence my good _Protection_ revealed in mine ear the right way not to tell lies: namely, should _Mother_ ask me, "_Milly_, hast thou seen again that gentleman?" that I should say out loud, "No, _Mother_,"--and whisper to myself, under my breath, "this morrow,"--the which should make it perfectly true. And right glad was I to hear of this most neat and delicate way of saving the truth, and yet not uttering your secrets. SELWICK HALL, NOVEMBER YE XXII. If Mistress _Helena Louvaine_ could ever hold her peace from saying just the very matter that I would give her a broad shilling to be quiet on! Here, now, this even, when all we were sat in hall, what should she begin with, but-- "_Father_, there is a thing I would ask at you." "Say on, my maid," quoth he, right kindly as his wont is: for _Father_ is alway ready to counsel us maids, whensoever we may desire it.