"She is, indeed, good—far beyond my deserts," I answered: "I never saw a sweeter young creature. She hath but one fault, and I sometimes fear that may bring her into trouble. She cannot refrain her tongue from any gibe or jest that comes to her. Bishop Gardiner comes often to our house, and never, I think, without their having an encounter of wits, in which he is sure to come by the worst. I like not the way he looks at her, and believe, though he says not a word but of the most honeyed courtesy, he doth cherish in his heart both anger and revenge." "It is a pity," said Margaret. "He is a wicked and cruel man—one of the true Pharisees which Scripture says do shut up the Kingdom of Heaven, not entering himself nor suffering others to do so. He is a dangerous enemy." "I know I would not like him for mine, but I am too insignificant to draw his notice." I dined with Margaret, and then we went together to her father's house, she giving me a caution not to speak of what she had told me about her husband affairs, specially before Philippa. "She would surely never betray you," said I, startled. Margaret shook her head. "She might not be able to help herself. I trust nobody who goes to confession." We found all well, and the children came near eating me up in the warmth of their welcome. I had brought my knitting, and Mistress Davis was at once on fire to learn the art, so I taught her as far as it could be learned in one lesson. I had made a little pair of red hosen for my pupil Helen, and great was the wonderment over them, for knitted hose were even mere rare then than now. The only ones ever seen were brought out of Spain and sold for great prices. Philippa was in a generous mood, and full of curiosity about my new way of living. I was willing to gratify her as far as was discreet, but she wanted to hear more, and began asking me questions about the family. "They say the Duke and Duchess do not well agree, and that he reproaches her with her wastefulness and love of dress, even before visitors," said she. "Nonsense," I answered. "The Duke is the very mirror and pink of courtesy to all, and especially to his wife." "But is she extravagant?" persisted Philippa. I hardly knew how to answer, for, in truth, I had thought my mistress more expenseful in her habits than was discreet at all times, even with such a princely income as the Duke's. Philippa went on, without waiting for a reply. "I have heard that her grace never wears the same gown twice, and that she hath as many sets of jewels as there are days in the year. Is that true, think you?" "I don't know; I never counted my mistress's jewels," I answered rather shortly, for I was vexed and embarrassed. "Take care, dear aunt, you have dropped a stitch. Let me take it up for you." "But you must have the chance to see all her fine things," continued Philippa. "Do you not take care of her jewels?" "No; she always puts them away herself."