"No, faith!" cried Neville, suddenly emancipated from the thrall of his first impression. "It was but the blessing of a good man I asked, which to my thinking should have some value, with the backing of any church or none; but since it must be bought with hypocrisy or begged on bended knee I will have none of it. Good-night, madam," he added, bowing low to Elinor; and helping himself to a candle from the table, he lighted it at the fire. "Good-night, my daughter!" the priest echoed, and added softly: "_Concede misericors Deus fragilitati nostræ præsidium!_" CHAPTER IV THE LORD OF THE MANOR The morning sun streamed into the bedroom where Cecil slept on his low truckle-bed beside his mother's curtained couch. The brilliant rays tugged at the boy's eyelids and lifted them as suddenly as the ropes raise the curtain of a play-house, and indeed to this small observer it seemed that a perpetual comedy was being acted in the world for his special benefit. Better still, that it was his delightful privilege to play the part of Harlequin in this rare farce of life and to make the gravest grown-people the sport of his jests. The earliest manifestation of humor, in the individual as in the race, is the practical joke; so it was quite natural that as a fresh and delightful pleasantry it occurred to Cecil, instantly on waking, to creep over to his mother's bed and begin to tickle her ear with the tassel of the bed curtain. The mere occupation was pleasure enough, but the sensation rose to ecstasy as he watched the sleepy hand raised time after time to brush away the supposed insect. At length the enjoyment grew too exquisite for repression, and at the cost of ruining its own existence burst out into a peal of laughter that roused the drowsy mother. "Thou naughty implet! What hour o' the clock is it?" "I know not the hour o' the clock; but o' the sun 'tis past rising time, and Couthin Mary is stirring already." "Then we must be stirring too; but first sit thee down here on the edge of the bed and try to listen as if thou wert grown." "I am, mother,--I am above thy waist." "Ay," said Elinor, smiling, "but the question is, art thou up to my meaning? Hearken! Dost thou know what a tenant is?" "Ay,--'tis a man who farms thy land, giving thee half and keeping three quarters for himthelf." His mother laughed. "Thou hast a good understanding for one so young, and the description is apt enough for most tenants; but how sayst thou of one who would give thee three quarters and keep only one for himself?" "Why, 'twould not become a Calvert to drive such a bargain with such a poor fool." "Thou art not far wrong. Share and share alike is fair dealing 'twixt land and labor, and so let it be between thee and Sir Christopher Neville." "Thir Chrithtopher Neville! The gentleman that came last night? Why, he ith no laborer. He cannot be in need to work for a living." "Nay, Cecil, 'tis a labor of love."