So she went with them, and listened to Latimer's sermon, wherein there were some things which Isoult felt would vex her; for the subject was praying to saints, and he said, "Invocation declareth an omnipotency." But not a word could Isoult get from her when they came home (for she stayed and dined with them), which showed how she liked it. Only she would say, "The man speaketh well; he hath good choice of words," and similar phrases; but on all points concerning his doctrine she kept silence. As Isoult sat at her sewing the next morning, with Walter at his hornbook, and Kate at her arithmetic beside her, a rap on the door brought Ursula to open it. Isoult fancied she knew the voice which asked "if Mistress Avery there dwelt," but she could not think all at once whose it was; yet the minute she came into the chamber, she well knew her old friend and colleague, Beatrice Vivian. Beatrice was fair and rosy, and looked well and happy, as she said she was. So when the ladies had sat and talked a little, and Beatrice had kissed the children, and told Isoult that she had two, whose names were Muriel and Alice, and that Mr Vivian was well, and other details: she said-- "Isoult, I have news for thee, which by thy leave I will have thee to guess." "Is it good or bad?" said Isoult. "Why, good, I hope," said Beatrice. "'Tis a wedding, and both bride and bridegroom we know." "Dear heart," sighed Isoult, "I am an ill guesser, as thou wist of old. Is it Mr Dynham?" [Fictitious person.] "What, my brother Leonard?" said she. "Nay, sweet heart; he hath been wed these six years." "Is it over, or to come?" "Over, this New Year, or should be," answered Beatrice. "Dost thou lack help? what thinkest of my Lady of Suffolk her own self?" [The date is fictitious. It was probably about Christmas, 1552.] "Beatrice, dear heart!" cried Isoult. "Thou meanest not that?" "Ay, but I do," said she, laughing. "And now, whom hath her Grace wedded?" "I would guess," said Isoult, "some gentleman of great riches and very high degree." "Well, as to riches," she answered, "I fancy he hath hitherto earned every penny he hath spent; and in respect of degree, hath been used to the holding of his mistress' stirrup. Canst thou guess now?" "Mr Bertie!" cried Isoult, in amazement. "Surely no!" "Surely so," answered Beatrice, again laughing. "Her Grace of Suffolk and Mr Bertie be now man and wife. And for my poor opinion, methinks she hath chosen well for her own comfort." "I am rarely glad to hear it," Isoult answered; "so think I likewise." But for all that, she was exceedingly surprised.