presentation to his mistress, and asked many questions in his artless
childish way. "Who is that other woman?" he asked. "She is fat and
round; she is more pretty than my Lady Castlewood."

"She is Madame Tusher, the parson's wife of Castlewood. She has a son of
your age, but bigger than you."

"Why does she like so to kiss my lady's hand. It is not good to kiss."

"Tastes are different, little man. Madame Tusher is attached to my lady,
having been her waiting-woman before she was married, in the old lord's
time. She married Doctor Tusher the chaplain. The English household
divines often marry the waiting-women."

"You will not marry the French woman, will you? I saw her laughing with
Blaise in the buttery."

"I belong to a church that is older and better than the English church,"
Mr. Holt said (making a sign whereof Esmond did not then understand the
meaning, across his breast and forehead); "in our church the clergy do
not marry. You will understand these things better soon."

"Was not Saint Peter the head of your church?--Dr. Rabbits of Ealing
told us so."

The Father said, "Yes, he was."

"But Saint Peter was married, for we heard only last Sunday that his
wife's mother lay sick of a fever." On which the Father again laughed,
and said he would understand this too better soon, and talked of other