counsel; but also tell him that nothing will drive me from this
place--not even though I be the only one left alive in the city.
Here I was born, and here I mean to die; and whether death comes by
the plague or by some other messenger what care I? I tell thee,
lad, I am far safer here than gadding about the country. Here I can
shut myself up at pleasure from all the world. Abroad, I am at the
muercy of any plague-stricken vagabond who comes to ask an alms.
Let all sensible folks stay at home and shut themselves up, and let
the fools go gadding here, there, and all over. As for Dorcas, let
her come and go as long as she safely may; but if your good mother
would keep her at home, then let her abide there, and return to me
when the peril is overpast. I like the wench, and if she likes to
abide altogether with me she may do so. Let her mother choose."

Dorcas, however, had no wish to live in that lonely house
altogether, and for the present there was no reason why she should
not go backwards and forwards to her father's abode. Her parents
were grateful to Lady Scrope for her offer, but for the present
there was no reason for making any change.

The weather during these bright days of May had been cool and
fresh, and in spite of all evil auguries, sanguine persons had
tried hard to believe and to make others believe that the peril of
a visitation of the plague had been somewhat overrated. Yet the
choked thoroughfares leading out of London gave the lie to these
suppositions, and for many weeks the bridge was a sight in itself,
crowded with carriages and waggons all filled with the richer folks
and their goods, hastening to the pleasant regions of Surrey to
forget their fears and escape the pestilential atmosphere of the
city.