But at after, in the even, when _Father_ and Aunt _Joyce_ and I were by ourselves a little season in the hall, I heard Aunt _Joyce_ say, very soft-- "_Aubrey_, didst thou give her the name?" Methought _Father_ shook his head. "I dared not, _Joyce_," saith he. "She was so sore troubled touching-- the other matter." "I thought so," quoth _Aunt_. "Then I will beware that I utter it not." "But _Edith_ knows," answereth _Father_ in a low voice. "The maids all know," saith she. "I did not reckon thou wouldest keep it from her." "I should not, but,"--and _Father_ paused. "Thou wist, _Joyce_, how she setteth her heart on all things." "I am afeared, _Aubrey_, she shall have to know sooner or later. Mistress _Lewthwaite_ did all but utter it to her this morning, only I thank God her memory failed her just at the right minute." "We were better to tell her than that," saith _Father_, and leaned his head upon his hand as though he took thought. Then _Mother_ and _Helen_ came in, and no more was said. SELWICK HALL, DECEMBER THE FOURTH. I had no time to write yestereven, for we were late abed, it being nigh nine o' the clock ere we came up; and all the day too busy. My Lady _Stafford_ and Sir _Robert_ and Mistress _Martin_ did return with _Father_--the which I set not down in his right place at my last writing,--and yesterday we gat acquaint and showed them the vicinage and such like. As to-morrow, _Mother_ shall carry them to wait on my Lord _Dilston_.