"It should have a deal less honesty!" saith _Nell_ with some heat--heat, that is, for _Nell_. "Honesty!" quoth _Blanche_: "soft you now [gently],--what dishonesty should be therein?" "Nay, _Blanche_, measure such dealing thyself by God's ell-wand of the Fifth Commandment, and judge if it were honouring thine elders as He bid thee." "I do vow, _Nell_, thou art a _Puritan_!" "By the which I know not what thou meanest," saith _Nell_, as cool as a marble image. "Why, 'tis a new word of late come up," quoth _Blanche_. "They do call all sad, precise, humdrum folk, _Puritans_." "Who be `they'?" asks _Nell_. "Why, all manner of folks--great folk in especial," saith she. "Come, _Blanche_!" saith _Edith_, "where hast thou jostled with great folk?" "An' I have not," quoth she, something hotly, "I reckon I may have talked with some that have." "No great folk--my Lord _Dilston_ except--ever come to _Derwent-side_," saith _Edith_. "And could I not discourse with my Lord _Dilston_, if it so pleased him and me?" quoth _Blanche_, yet something angered. "Come, my maids, fall not out," saith _Alice_. "Thou well wist, _Blanche_, thou hast had no talk with my Lord _Dilston_, that is known all o'er for the bashfullest and silentest man with women ever was. I do marvel how he e'er gat wed, without his elders did order it for him." Well, at this we all laughed, and _Alice_ turned the talk aside to other matter, for I think she saw that _Blanche's_ temper (which is ne'er that of an angel) were giving way. I cannot help to be somewhat diseaseful, for it seemeth me as though _Blanche_ might hint at Sir _Edwin_. And I do trust he hath not been a-flattering of her. She is metely well-looking,--good of stature, and a fair fresh face, grey eyen, and fair hair, as have the greater part of maids about here, but her nose turns up too much for beauty. She is not for to compare with me nor _Edith_. I must ask at Sir _Edwin_ to-morrow if he wist aught of _Blanche_. If I find him double-tongued--good lack! but methinks I would ne'er see him no more, though it should break mine heart--as I cast no doubt it should. SELWICK HALL, NOVEMBER YE XXV. 'Tis all well, and _Blanche_ could not have meant to hint at my _Protection_. I asked at him if he knew one _Blanche Lewthwaite_, and he seemed fair astonied, and said he knew no such an one, nor that any of that name dwelt in all the vale. Then I told him wherefore I had asked it. And he said that to think I was jealous of any for him did him uttermost honour and pleasance, but did his fairest _Amiability_ (quo' he) think he could so much as look on any other face at after hers?