“And to think that I saw them with these eyes, and link boys, when there was no moon, and concerts of music in the Cave of Harmony, night by night, and two gentlemen fighting in a field--this was by chance, and my lady passing in a chariot sent forth a shriek, so that one pistol exploded before its time, and the bullet graded a peaceful gentleman, who they said was a doctor of physic coming quick across the meadow, scenting a fee!” “Pity is 'twasn't a lawyer. I hoard the thought that in case o' a fight 'twixt friends, the lawyers hurry up as well as the doctors in hope of a job,” said the miller. “Well, you've seen the world a deal for one so young, Nelly,” he added. “And the concerts of singing and the assemblies and the beautiful polite dance which they call the minuet were as nought when placed alongside the plays in the playhouse,” cried Nelly. The miller became grave. “There be some who see a wicked evil in going to the playhouse,” he remarked, with a more casual air than was easy to him. “That I have heard,” said the girl. “They say that a part o' the playhouse is called the pit,” suggested the farmer. “Ay, I saw the name over the door at Plymouth, as it maybe did you, miller.” “And some jumped at the notion that that pit led to another of a bottomless sort?” said the girl. “Well, I don't say that'twas the remembrance of that only that drew me to the playhouse. I did get something of a shock, I allow, when my young ladies bade me attend them to the playhouse one night, but while I sought a fair excuse for 'biding at our lodging on the Mall, I found myself inventing excuses for obeying my orders, and I must say that I found it a good deal easier doing this than t'other.” “Ay, ay, I doubt not that--oh, no, we doubt it not,” cried the miller, shaking his head. Richard Pritchard shook his head also. “I found myself saying, 'How can the playhouse be a place of evil when my good young ladies, who are all that is virtuous, find it a pleasure to go?'” The miller shook his head more doubtfully than before. “I think that you left the service of your young ladies in good time,” muttered the miller. “Do not dare to say a word against them--against even Mistress Alice, who, I allow, hath a tantrum now and again, when the seamstress fails her in time or mode,” said the girl. “Of course when I reflected that I was but a servant, so to speak, and that my duty was to obey my mistresses, I would hesitate no longer. Duty is a virtue, sir, so I submitted without a complaint.” “Ay, you would do that,” murmured the blacksmith. “I said to myself----” “Oh,” groaned the miller. Nelly ignored the groan. She went on demurely from where she was interrupted. “I said to myself, 'Should there be evil in it none can hold me blameworthy, since I was only obeying the order of them that were set over me.' I went and I was glad that I went, for I saw no evil in word or act.” “I'm grieved to hear it, Nelly,” said the miller.