"That made me flash up, as speaking lightly of aged women always does. 'Poor chivalry,' said I, 'which has not recollection enough of a mother to lend a helping hand to the old and wrinkled. We shall be wrinkled and toothless in a few years, sir, and our imagination is not so weak but that we can fore-date a little while, and transfer all such heartless jests to ourselves. I have been used to higher chivalry than that among the Puritans. "He laughed, and made a pretty pathetic deprecation. His mother had died (quoth he) when he was too young to remember. Some little excuse, perchance. However, Roger Drayton's mother also died when he was in infancy. But be that as it might, I was in no mood to listen. And as we were speaking, a serving-man came to tell me a poor woman from Netherby was in the ante-room craving to see me or my Mother. "It was Rachel Forster. "Her neat Puritan hood, so dainty, I think around her pale worn-looking face, was rather ruffled, and although her eyes had the wonted quiet in them, (only a little loftier than usual,) she was trembling, and willingly took the chair I offered her. "'You did not find it easy coming through the royal lines,' I said. "'Nothing but a few rude jests at the gate, Mistress Lettice,' said she; 'but I am not used to them, or to going about the world alone. But I have been taken good care of. And I am _here_,' she added, fervently; 'which is all I asked.' "'Did they try to take your horse from you?' I said. "'They took him,' she said. 'But that matters little. He was a faithful beast, and I am feared how they may use him. But the beasts have only now, neither fore nor after, which saves them much.' Then without more words she gave me a letter from Olive. "From this I found that Roger is a prisoner in the Castle here, with Job Forster. "I went into the other chamber, and asked Sir Launcelot had he known of this. "'I learned it a day or two since,' he replied, hesitating, 'but I did not tell you or Lady Lucy, because you are so pitiful, I feared to pain you uselessly.' "'_We_ might have judged whether it was uselessly or not, Sir Launcelot!' said I. "'Can I do anything for you?' he asked, in confusion. "'Nothing,' said I. 'You might have helped an aged woman, a friend of mine, whom you found in difficulties at the gate this morning. But now, excuse me, I have no time to spare--I must go to my Mother.' And I withdrew to the inner room, to bring my Mother out at once to see what could be done; leaving him to retire through the ante-room, where Rachel Forster sat. "I trow he will not be in a hurry to visit us again. "My Mother and Rachel had always been friends. They both live a good deal at the height where the party-colours blend in the one sunlight; and they neither of them ever speak half as much as they feel about religion.