pure faith could be openly avowed without danger.

Sir Marmaduke Thistlewood, the husband to whom Annora Walwyn had
been destined before M. de Ribaumont had crossed her path, was
about the same time left a widower with one son and daughter, and
as soon as a suitable interval had passed, she became a far happier
wife than she had been in either the Baron's gay or grave days.
Her son had continued under the roof of his grandfather, to whose
charge his father had specially committed him, and thus had been
scarcely separated from his mother, since Combe Manor was not above
three miles across the downs from Hurst Walwyn, and there was
almost daily intercourse between the families. Lucy Thistlewood
had been brought to Hurst Walwyn to be something between a maid of
honour and a pupil to the ladies there, and her brother Philip, so
soon as he was old enough, daily rode thither to share with
Berenger the instructions of the chaplain, Mr. Adderley, who on the
present occasion formed one of the conclave, sitting a little apart
as not quite familiar, though highly esteemed.

With an elbow on the table, and one hand toying with his long
riding-whip, sat, booted and spurred, the jovial figure of Sir
Marmaduke, who called out, in his hearty voice, 'A good riddance of
an outlandish Papist, say I! Read the letter, Berenger lad. No,
no, no! English it! I know nothing of your mincing French! 'Tis
the worst fault I know in you, boy, to be half a Frenchman, and
have a French name'--a fault that good Sir Marmaduke did his best
to remedy by always terming his step-son Berenger or Berry
Ribmount, and we will so far follow his example as henceforth to
give the youth the English form of his Christian name. He was by
this time a tall lad of eighteen, with straight features, honest