"Madam, you push me to the wall," said the old man, raising his head and regarding her with his clear, steadfast blue eyes. "Since I must declare what I think, I must needs say that what is called the religious life, hath no warrant in Holy Scripture. We find injunctions many, addressed to fathers and mothers, parents and children, husbands and wives, and even to masters and servants, but none to monks and nuns; a strange omission, methinks, if they were expected to form such a great and important part of the church. I will not say that there hath not been good come out of these institutions in times past, but the state of life doth seem to me to be unnatural, and, considering the depravity of the human heart, likely to foster as much evil as good. Nevertheless, I would have more charity and less haste used in the doing away with them, and with all my heart do I pity those poor ladies, who, having no home, are turned out of their only shelter, and would gladly help them so far as it is in my power. I crave pardon, madam, if I offend in my speech. I am but a plain man, and since you would have my mind, I must needs speak plainly." "You give no offense, sir," answered the lady; and the same odd little half-smile hovered about her lips that I had seen once or twice before. "So you are a reader of the Evangel?" "Ay, madam, the king's grace now permits persons of my degree to read it openly." "And is it your will, Loveday, to go with this worthy man?" "Yes, reverend mother, since mine uncle commands it," said I, marveling at the question; for when Master Davis spoke so plainly, and, above all, when he owned to reading the Bible, I had expected nothing less than a direct prohibition. "I believe you choose wisely," said the reverend mother. "What means have you of carrying her, Master Davis?" "I have brought a palfrey for her riding, madam, and I thought if any of the ladies wished to come up to London, they might do so under my escort and that of my servants." "I will inquire about that. Meantime, my daughter, go and make your preparations." My few worldly goods were soon gathered together—very few they were—Mistress Davis had been thoughtful enough to send me a riding dress and mask, such as were worn by people of her quality, and I was ready to take leave of the house where I had lived so long, and where I had thought to spend the rest of my days. The dear mothers gave me their blessing and farewells, and in a moment, I was outside the gate. I have never seen the place again. The king kept it in his own hands for a time, and, I believe, sojourned there more than once. After that, in King Edward's reign, it was the home of Lady Anne of Cleves, the King's divorced wife and adopted sister. Afterward, Queen Mary granted it to some preaching friars, who began a work of restoration which they had no time to finish. Now it belongs to our good queen.