"Aye, evil it is to indulge our sinful bodies in such recreation as doth
not tend to the glorification of the Lord and the sanctification of our
immortal souls."

He who sermonized thus unctuously and with eyes fixed with stern
disapproval on the buxom wench before him, was a man who had passed the
meridian of life not altogether--it may be surmised--without having
indulged in some recreations which had not always the sanctification of
his own immortal soul for their primary object. The bulk of his figure
testified that he was not averse to good cheer, and there was a certain
hidden twinkle underlying the severe expression of his eyes as they
rested on the pretty face and round figure of Mistress Charity that did
not necessarily tend to the glorification of the Lord.

Apparently, however, the admonitions of Master Hymn-of-Praise made but a
scanty impression on the young girl's mind, for she regarded him with a
mixture of amusement and contempt as she shrugged her plump shoulders
and said with sudden irrelevance:

"Have you had your dinner yet, Master Busy?"

"'Tis sinful to address a single Christian person as if he or she were
several," retorted the man sharply. "But I'll tell thee in confidence,
mistress, that I have not partaken of a single drop more comforting than
cold water the whole of to-day. Mistress de Chavasse mixed the
sack-posset with her own hands this morning, and locked it in the
cellar, of which she hath rigorously held the key. Ten minutes ago when
she placed the bowl on this table, she called my attention to the fact
that the delectable beverage came to within three inches of the brim.