"Niece, dear niece," said Sir Thomas, "you have had many happy meetings now with your lover. You said ’one’ would make you happy. While he was so ill, consider to what trouble and expense I gladly went, in order that you might have the satisfaction of knowing his constant condition. Be reasonable, Matilda. I have already done far more than I promised, and now affairs are in such a state that I feel it best to go home. I do long for my home and my garden. I have missed all my roses this summer. And the business I came to settle has been suddenly settled for me." "You are going to lose a little gold, and so you are wretched, and must go to the City-of-the-Miserable." "I am not going to lose a penny." "Well, then?" "There may be trouble because of this very thing, and I do not want to be in Paris with the two women I love better than myself, if Cromwell and Mazarin come to blows. I might be taken from you. I should very likely be sent to the Bastile; you would not wish that, Matilda?" "That is nonsense! But will you tell me what is this last outrage of Cromwell’s?" "Blake, by his orders, has taken a French merchantman. It was brought to London and sold with the cargo, and the money received from this sale was used to cancel the debt owing me by the French Government. All the papers relating to the transaction, with the balance of the money, were turned over to Mazarin this morning. The Cardinal was furious. He called me into his Presence Chamber, and though his words were smooth as oil, he pointed out the wrong of such high-handed management of debit and credit between two nations. Also, he was much chagrined at the seal on the papers, the design of which represents England’s navy as filling the seas. He said scornfully, ’I perceive his Excellency has very merchant-like ways of business, and has not yet learned king-craft;’ then he was silent a moment, and smiled,—my dear wife and niece, try and fancy a serpent smiling,—after which he handed me the seals again, and still smiling, continued, ’’Tis in the mercy of the Almighty that He has been kind enough to make the seas so wide as to permit poor French sailormen a little pathway through His great waters. His Excellency, Oliver Cromwell, would have no ships but English ships—very patriotic, but perhaps patriotism is a smaller virtue than people think; justice may be greater. As for me,’ he added, casting his eyes to heaven, ’as for me, ’tis in my vows to love all men.’ Much more was said, but these are the particulars as I remember them." "He is a great hypocrite," said Lady Jevery. "He loves very few men, and no one loves him." "Is that all, uncle?"