“Poor Dick! he did n't like to hear that. Oh, if he had stayed at home and had carried his link as before, all would have been well!” “What is the wench talking about? Well--all would have been well? And is not all well, you jade? 'T were rank treason to say else. Is n't this room with its gilded looking-glasses and painted vases pretty well for one who had been an orange girl? The king is a gentleman, and a merry gentleman, too. Well, indeed!” “But Dick!--what more did you say to him, mother?” “I asked him after himself, to be sure. I' faith the lad has prospered, Nell--not as you have prospered, to be sure--” “Nay, not as I have prospered.” “Of course not; but still somewhat. He will tell you all, himself.” “What? You told him where I dwelt?” “'I meant it not, Nelly; but he had it from me before I was aware. But he knows nothing. I tell you he only came to London from Bristol port in the morning. He will have no time to hear of the king and the king's fancies before he sees you.” “He is coming hither, then? No, he must not come! Oh, he shall not come! Mother, you have played me false!” “I? Oh, the wench is mad! False? What could I say, girl, when he pressed me?” “You could have said that I was dead--that would have been the truth. The girl he knew is dead. He must not come to this house.” “Then give your lacqueys orders not to admit him, and all will be well. But I thought that you would e'en see the lad, Nell, now that he has prospered. If he had n't prospered it would be different.” “Only an orange-seller, and yet with the precepts of a lady of quality! I'll not see him. Did he say he'd come soon?” “Within an hour, he said.” Instinctively, Nell looked at her reflection in a mirror. “I'll not see him,” she repeated. “That gown will do well enough for one just returned from the Indies,” said the mother, with a leer. “Oh, go away, go away,” cried her daughter. “You have done enough mischief for one morning. Why could not you have let things be? Why should you put this man on my track?” “'T is a fool that the wench is, for all her smartness,” said the mother. “She was picked out of the gutter and set down among the noblest in the land, and all that held on to her gown were landed in pleasant places; and yet she talks like a kitchen jade with no sense. If you will not see the lad, hussy, lock your door and close your shutters, after giving orders to your lacqueys to admit him not. If needful, the king can be petitioned to send a guard to line the Park with their pikes to keep out poor Dick, as though he was the devil, and the Park the Garden of Eden.” “Oh, go away--go away!” “Oh, yes; I 'll go--and you 'll see him, too--no fear about that. A girl, however well provided for--and you're well provided for--would n't refuse to see an old sweetheart, if he was the old serpent himself; nay, she'd see him on that account alone. And so good day to you, good Mistress Eve.”