"Bethink you this is a grave matter," said my Lady. "Here, sit you down and let us talk it over reasonably." We were talking in her closet, and I sat down, not on the chair beside her, but on a hassock at her feet. I was glad of the permission, for what with excitement and some other feeling, I know not what, I trembled from head to foot. "Bethink you well; this is a grave matter," repeated my Lady. "Mr. Penrose is an excellent man, and a gentleman. He hath now a good living, and you will have such a settlement for life as belongs to few at your age." "I know it, my Lady," I answered, as she seemed to pause for a reply. "I know all that, and that it is an offer far above my deserts, but I cannot marry him." "But, sweetheart, have you never given Mr. Penrose cause to think that you would marry him—at the least that you were not averse to him?" said my Lady. "No, madam, that I have not, I am sure," I answered, eagerly. "How could I, when I no more expected such an offer from him, than from St. Thomas of Canterbury, in the chancel window? I never even thought of such a thing, till Lady Jemima accused me of flirting with him; and since then I have seen Mr. Penrose hardly at all. Indeed, my Lady, I have given him no reason, and he is a coxcomb if he says I have!" "Gently, gently!" said my Lady, laughingly (which she does but rarely). "Why, what a little pepper-pot it is, after all! Mr. Penrose neither said nor hinted aught of the kind, so you need not be so hot against him. 'Tis no insult, sure, for a good gentleman to wish to marry you." "I beg your pardon, my Lady," I faltered. And then, like a great baby, I burst out crying, and sobbed, "O mother, mother! I want my own mother!" Instead of chiding me, as I deserved, my dear Lady laid my head against her knee, and kissed and soothed me, till I was able to recover some self-control. Then she asked me again, what objection I had to Mr. Penrose. "I don't know that I have any particular objection, my Lady, only that he is Mr. Penrose," I answered. "I liked him well enough till he wanted to marry me, and now I cannot bear him. Beside, my Lady, I cannot leave you and Lady Betty. I am promised to you for a year, at least. Oh, my Lady, don't turn against me and send me away! Indeed, the stories about me are not true. I am no Puritan, and—" I found the tears were coming again, so I checked myself and said no more.