"I think you will agree with the other waiting gentlewoman, Mistress Emily Mandeville, very well," said Mistress Curtis. "She is a good creature, and wholly devoted to her lady. As to the rest of the household, you will have little to do with them. You will have your own room, to which you may retire when off duty, and you will share this parlor with myself and Mistress Mandeville. I need not tell you that you are expected, when in her Grace's apartment, to hear all and say nothing, and I trust you need no warning against gossiping and repeating conversation out of the house." "I trust not, indeed, madam!" I answered, feeling my cheeks grow hot at the very idea that such a caution was needful. "I am not likely to tattle, seeing I know no one in London but Mistress Davis and her family, who are not likely to tempt me to such baseness." "Nay, be not so warm!" said Mistress Curtis, smiling. "There was no accusation in my words, only a warning, which is quite a different matter." "I ask pardon, madam!" I answered, feeling ashamed of my hastiness. "Quickness of temper is my failing, but I trust, by God's grace, to correct it time." "'Tis half the battle to know one's fault," gently answered Mistress Curtis; "but yet I counsel you, maiden, to strive with all your might against it. A hasty temper often does more harm in five minutes than can be undone by the bitter repentance of a lifetime." I thought I had too much reason to know that. "I never thought it so bad a fault as some others—as lying and deceit!" observed Mistress Davis. "True, sister. Deceit is to all other faults as the King's Evil * to other diseases. It infects the whole soul as that the whole body, blood, flesh and bone, and one never knows when it may break out or what form it may take. But there is no single fault which, when indulged, does not drag a chain of other sins along with it. Learn, then, to rule thy spirit, dear maiden, and so to be greater than he that taketh a city, as the wise man says. Now, as to a less important matter, but yet one of weight, especially with young maids—your clothes!" she added, smiling. * What we now call scrofula. It was named King's Evil from the fact that the Kings of England were believed to have the power of curing it. "If it please you, madam, do you and my Aunt Davis settle that between you," I answered. "I am sure you will know best." "Why, so we will. Meantime, you may go into the next room, where you will find an instrument, some music books, and other volumes with which you may amuse yourself."