'Twas he who first won me to talk of my husband, by telling me how he had met him at Suffolk house. It was a great relief, once I brought my mind to it, and his wise, gentle counsels and prayers did a great deal toward dispelling the dull cloud which seemed to settle down upon me after the immediate need for action was past. I found comfort once more in devotion, and began to take up some of my old pursuits. My dear lady liked me to read and sing to her, and she needed something to divert her, for she was far from well. Mistress Giggs' youngest daughter, Amy, had fallen into a rapid consumption—a waste, as we call it in these parts. Her mother, though she loved the child tenderly, was no great things of a nurse, and poor little Amy liked me about her. My mistress, ever self-forgetful, would have me do what I could for the child, and Mr. Batie often visited and prayed by her. The women were of the Reformed persuasion. As for Mr. Giggs, his religion varied with the company he kept. It was now the end of November, and we were looking for my lady's trial to come on any day. The nights were long and dark, and the ground was covered with snow, but it was not very cold. Mr. Batie had been away for a few days, and we were anxious for his return. Mr. Giggs had come home and had been to see us that very afternoon to tell us how he had been made much of at the court of the Prince Bishop of Cleves; it would be hard to tell whether the man were more unfit for a prince or a bishop. In his vanity, he let out perhaps more than he meant, as he told us how intimate he had been with the bishop's chief-councilor, a Dominican priest, and what fair promises had been made him of places at court, and how he should be able to serve Mr. Batie. "What a popinjay the man is!" said Mistress Curtis, when he was gone. "I hope he is no worse," said I. It had fallen to our lot to entertain him as usual, my mistress being ill at ease, and having besides a great dislike to him. "I hope he is not the pilot fish I have heard the mariners tell of, which guides the shark to its prey." "What can you mean?" asked Mistress Curtis. Before I had time to answer, the door opened quickly, and Bessy Giggs came in. "Has Mr. Batie come home?" she asked, without any preface, and with none of her usual shyness. "Not yet?" answered Mistress Curtis. "What is it, Bessy?" I asked. "What has happened? Is Amy worse?" "Yes—no. It is not that!" she answered. "Oh, I would Mr. Batie were at home." "Here I am!" said Mr. Batie's calm voice, as he entered in his usual quiet way. "What is it, Bessy?" "I know not if it is any thing!" she answered. "But— My father has been at court, in the hands of the bishop's confessor, and a man has come back with him whose looks I like not. You know my father. He thinks he is so secret, and a child can make him tell all he knows and more."