SELWICK HALL, DECEMBER THE V. This morrow we set forth for _Lord's Island_, a goodly company--to wit, _Father_, and _Mother_, and Sir _Robert_ and my Lady _Stafford_, and Mistress _Martin_, and _Milisent_, and me. Too many were we for _Adam_ to row, and thought to take old _Matthias_, had not _Robin Lewthwaite_ chanced on us the last minute, and craved leave to take an oar, saying it should be a jolly pleasance for him to spend the day on _Lord's Island_. So _Father_ took the second oar, and _Adam_ steered, and all we got well across, thanks to God. We landed, _Father_ gave his hand to my Lady _Stafford_, and Sir _Robert_ to _Mother_, and _Robin_, pulling a face at _Milly_ and me (for I wis well he had liever have been with us), his to Mistress _Martin_. "Well, _Edith_," saith _Milly_, the pleasantest she hath spoken of late, "I reckon I must be thy _cavaliero_." "Will you have my cap, _Milisent_?" saith _Robin_, o'er his shoulder. "Thanks, I reckon I shall manage without," quoth she. "Well, have a care you demean yourself as a _cavaliero_ should," saith he. "Tell her she is the fairest maid in all the realm, and you shall die o' despair an' you get not a glance from her sweet eyes." "Nay, I'll leave that for you," saith _Milly_. "Good. I will do mine utmost to mind it the next opportunity," quoth _Robin_. So, with mirth, come we up to _Dilston_ Hall. My Lord was within, said the old serving-man, and so likewise were Mistress _Jane_ and Mistress _Cicely_: so he led us across the hall, that is set with divers coloured stones, of a fashion they have in _Italy_, and into a pleasant chamber, where Mistress _Cicely_ was sat at her frame a-work, and rose up right lovingly to welcome us. Mistress _Jane_, said she, was in the garden: but my Lord come in the next minute, and was right pleasant unto us after his sad and bashful fashion, for never saw I a man like him, as bashful as any maid. Then Mistress _Jane_ come anon, and bare us--to wit, _Milisent_ and me--away to her own chamber, where she gave us sweet cakes and muscadel; and Mistress _Cicely_ came too. And a jolly time should we have had, had it not come into Mistress _Cicely's_ head to ask at us if it were true that _Blanche Lewthwaite_ was gone away with some gallant. I had need to say Ay, for _Milisent_ kept her mouth close shut. "And who were he?" quoth Mistress _Jane_. I answered that so far as we heard he had passed by divers names, all about this vicinage: but the name whereby he had called himself at _Mere Lea_ (which is Master _Lewthwaite's_) was _Everett_. "I warrant you, _Jane_," saith Mistress _Cicely_, "'tis the same _Everett_ Farmer _Benson_ was so wroth with, for making up to his _Margaret_. He said if ever he came nigh his house again, he should go thence with a bullet more than he brought. A man past his youth, was he, _Edith_, with fair shining hair--no grey in it--and mighty sweet spoken?"