"They set them up for having overmuch goodness," answered Jack in a disgusted tone.

"Prithee, Jack, how much goodness is that?" his Aunt Rachel wished to know.

"Over Jack's goodness," whispered Blanche.

"There is not one that is not a coward," resumed Jack, ignoring the query. "As for Feversham yonder, I can tell why he would not go."

"Why?" said Feversham, looking up.

"Because," returned Jack with lofty scorn, "thou art afeared lest the bull should break loose."

Blanche was curious to hear what John Feversham would say to this accusation--one which to her mind was a most insulting one. Surely this would rouse him, if anything could.

"That is not all I am afeared of," said John quietly.

"Art thou base enough to confess fear?" cried Jack, as if he could hardly believe his ears.

John Feversham looked him steadily in the face.

"Ay, Jack Enville," he said, unmoved by the taunt. "I am afeared of G.o.d."

"Well said, my brave lad!" muttered Sir Thomas.

Jack turned, and left the hall without answering. But after that evening, his whole conduct towards Feversham evinced the uttermost contempt. He rarely spoke to him, but was continually speaking at him, in terms which cla.s.sed him with "ancient wives" and "coward loons"-- insinuations so worded that it was impossible to reply, and yet no one could doubt what was meant by them. Unless Feversham were extremely careless of the opinion of his fellows, he must have found this very galling; but he showed no indication of annoyance, beyond an occasional flush and quiver of the lip. Sir Thomas had at once exhibited his displeasure when he heard this, so that Jack restricted his manifestations to times when his father was absent; but the amus.e.m.e.nt sometimes visible in Blanche's face was not likely to be pleasant to the man whom Blanche had refused to marry.

"Well, Sir?" queried Jack one Sat.u.r.day evening, as the family sat round the hall fire after rear-supper. "My leave, an' I remember rightly, shall end this week next but one. I must look shortly to be on my way to London. What say you touching these little matters?"

"What little matters, Jack?" inquired his father.

"These bills, Sir."

"I cry thee mercy," said Sir Thomas dryly. "I counted those great matters."

"Forsooth, no, Sir! There be few gentlemen in the Court that do owe so little as I."

"The Court must be a rare ill place, belike."

"My good Sir!" said Jack condescendingly, "suffer me to say that you, dwelling hereaway in the country, really can form no fantasy of the manner of dwellers in the town. Of course, aught should serve here that were decent and comely. But in the Court 'tis right needful that fashion be observed. Go to!--these chairs we sit on, I dare say, have been here these fifty years or more?"

"As long as I mind, Jack," said his father; "and that is somewhat over fifty years."

"Truly, Sir. Now, no such a thing could not be done in the Court. A chair that is ten years old is there fit for nought; a gla.s.s of five years may not be set on board; and a gown you have worn one year must be cast aside, whether it be done or no. The fashion choppeth and changeth all one with the moon; nor can a gentleman wear aught that is not the newest of his sort. Sir, the Queen's Highness carrieth ne'er a gown two seasons, nor never rippeth--all hang by the walls."

It was the custom at that time to pull handsome dresses in pieces, and use the materials for something else; but if a dress were not worth the unpicking, it was hung up and left to its fate. Queen Elizabeth kept all hers "by the walls;" she never gave a dress, and never took one in pieces.

"Gentility, son--at least thy gentility--is costly matter," remarked Sir Thomas.

"Good lack, Sir! You speak as though I had been an ill husband!" [an extravagant man] cried Jack in an injured tone. "Look you, a gentleman must have his raiment decent--"

"Three cloth suits, six shirts, and six pair of stockings should serve for that, Jack, nor cost above twenty pound the year, and that free reckoned," [a very handsome allowance] put in Aunt Rachel.

"Six shirts, my dear Aunt!--and six pair of stockings!" laughed Jack.

"Why, 'twere not one the day."

"Two a-week is enow for any man--without he be a chimney-sweep," said Aunt Rachel oracularly.

This idea evidently amused Jack greatly.

"'Tis in very deed as I said but now: you have no fantasy hereaway of the necessities of a man that is in the Court. He must needs have his broidered shirts, his Italian ruff, well-set, broidered, and starched; his long-breasted French doublet, well bombasted [padded]; his hose,-- either French, Gally, or Venetian; his corked Flemish shoes of white leather; his paned [slashed and puffed with another colour or material]

velvet breeches, guarded with golden lace; his satin cloak, well broidered and laced; his coats of fine cloth, some forty shillings the yard; his long, furred gown of Lukes' [Lucca] velvet; his m.u.f.f, Spanish hat, Toledo rapier; his golden and jewelled ear-rings; his stays--"

A few e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns, such as "Good lack!" and "Well-a-day!" had been audible from Aunt Rachel as the list proceeded; but Sir Thomas kept silence until the mention of this last article, which was in his eyes a purely feminine item of apparel.

"Nay, Jack, nay, now! Be the men turning women in the Court?"

"And the women turning men, belike," added Rachel. "The twain do oft-times go together."

"My good Sir!" returned Jack, with amused condescension. "How shall a gentleman go about a sorry figure, more than a gentlewoman?"

"Marry come up!" interposed Rachel. "If the gentleman thou hast scarce finished busking be not a sorry figure, I ne'er did see the like."

"Stays, ear-rings, m.u.f.fs!" repeated Sir Thomas under his breath.

"Belike a fan, too, Jack?--and a pomander?--and masks?--and gloves?"

"Gloves, without doubt, sir; and they of fair white Spanish leather, wrought with silk. Masks, but rarely; nor neither fans nor pomanders."

"Not yet, I reckon. Dear heart! what will the idle young gallants be a-running after the next? We shall have them twisting rats' tails in their hair, or riding in coaches."

"I ensure you, Sir, many gentlemen do even now ride in coaches. 'Tis said the Queen somewhat misliketh the same."

"Dear heart!" said Sir Thomas again.

"And now, Sir, you can well see all these must needs be had--"

"Beshrew me, Jack, if I see aught of the sort!"

"All I see," retorted Rachel, "is, if they be had, they must be paid for."

"Nay, worry not the lad thus!" was softly breathed from Lady Enville's corner. "If other gentlemen wear such gear, Jack must needs have the same also. You would not have him mean and sorry?" [shabby.]

"Thou wouldst have him a scarlet and yellow popinjay!" said Rachel.

"I would not have him mean, Orige," replied Sir Thomas significantly.

"Well, Sir,--all said, we come to this," resumed Jack in his airy manner. "If these bills must needs be paid--and so seem you to say--how shall it be? Must I essay for the monopoly?--or for a wardship?--or for an heir?--or shall I rather trust to my luck at the dice?"

"Buy aught but a living woman!" said Rachel, with much disgust.