"and mix not thine unruly talk with the wise sayings of thy betters."

"My work is done, Master."

"Go fetch the pasties then, the quality will be in directly," rejoined
the other peremptorily, throwing a scrutinizing look at the table,
whereon a somewhat meager collation of cherries, raspberries and
gooseberries and a more generous bowl of sack-posset had been arranged
by Mistress Charity and Master Courage under his own supervision.

"Doubtless, doubtless," here interposed the young maid somewhat
hurriedly, desirous perhaps of distracting the grave butler's attention
from the mischievous oglings of the lad as he went out of the room, "as
you remark--hem--as thou remarkest, this place of service is none to the
liking of such as ... thee ..."

She threw him a coy glance from beneath well-grown lashes, which caused
the saintly man to pass his tongue over his lips, an action which of a
surety had not the desire for spiritual glory for its mainspring. With
dainty hands Mistress Charity busied herself with the delicacies upon
the table. She adjusted a gooseberry which seemed inclined to tumble,
heaped up the currants into more graceful pyramids. Womanlike, whilst
her eyes apparently followed the motions of her hands they nevertheless
took stock of Master Hymn-of-Praise's attitude with regard to herself.

She knew that in defiance of my Lord Protector and all his Puritans she
was looking her best this afternoon: though her kirtle was as threadbare
as Master Courage's breeches it was nevertheless just short enough to
display to great advantage her neatly turned ankle and well-arched foot
on which the thick stockings--well-darned--and shabby shoes sat not at