wealthy man, son to a Lord Mayor, who, they say, reared him alone
out of a round score of children."

"Alack! poor souls," sighed Mistress Randall under her breath, for,
as Ambrose afterwards learnt, her two babes had scarce seen the
light. Her husband, while giving her a look of affection, went on--
"Not that he can keep his wealth. He has bestowed the most of it on
Stepney church, and on the school he hath founded for poor children,
nigh to St. Paul's."

"Could I get admittance to that school?" exclaimed Ambrose.

"Thou art a big fellow for a school," said his uncle, looking him
over. "However, faint heart never won fair lady."

"I have a letter from the Warden of St. Elizabeth's to one of the
clerks of St. Paul's," added Ambrose. "Alworthy is his name."

"That's well. We'll prove that same," said his uncle. "Meantime,
if ye have eaten your fill, we must be on our way to thine armourer,
nevoy Stephen, or I shall be called for."

And after a private colloquy between the husband and wife, Ambrose
was by both of them desired to make the little house his home until
he could find admittance into St. Paul's School, or some other. He
demurred somewhat from a mixture of feelings, in which there was a
certain amount of Stephen's longing for freedom of action, and
likewise a doubt whether he should not thus be a great inconvenience
in the tiny household--a burden he was resolved not to be. But his
uncle now took a more serious tone.