icultie much greater."--"Oh, what has
happened?" I impatientlie cried. Just then, _Dick_ comes in with his
usual blunt Salutations, and then cries, "Well, _Moll_, are you ready
to goe back?" "Why should I be?" I sayd, "when I am soe happy here?
unless _Father_ is ill, or Mr. _Agnew_ and _Rose_ are tired of me."
They both interrupted, there was nothing they soe much desired, at this
present, as that I shoulde prolong my Stay. And you know, _Dick, I_
added, that _Forest Hill_ is not soe pleasant to me just now as it hath
commonlie beene, by Reason of your _Oxford_ Companions. He brieflie
sayd, I neede not mind that, they were coming no more to the House,
_Father_ had decreed it. And you know well enough, _Moll_, that what
_Father_ decrees, must be, and he hath decreed that you must come Home
now; soe no more Ado, I pray you, but fetch your Cloak and Hood, and
the Horses shall come round, for 'twill be late ere we reach Home.
"Nay, you must dine here at all Events," sayd _Rose_; "I know, _Dick_,
you love roast Pork." Soe _Dick_ relented. Soe _Rose_, turning to me,
prayed me to bid _Cicely_ hasten Dinner; the which I did, tho' thinking
it strange _Rose_ should not goe herself. But, as I returned, I hearde
her say, Not a Word of it, dear _Dick_, at the least, till after
Dinner, lest you spoil her Appetite. Soe _Dick_ sayd he shoulde goe
and look after the Horses. I sayd then, brisklie, I see somewhat is
the Matter--pray tell me what it is. But _Rose_ looked quite dull, and
walked to the Window. Then Mr. _Agnew_ sayd, "You seem as dissatisfied
to leave us, _Cousin_, as we are to lose you; and yet you are going
back to _Forest Hill_--to that Home in which you will doubtlesse be
happy to live all your Dayes."--"At _Forest Hill_?" I sayd, "Oh no! I
hope not." "And why?" sayd he quicklie. I hung my Head, and muttered,
"I hope, some Daye, to goe back to Mr. _Milton_." "And why not at
once?" sayd he. I sayd, "_Father_ would not let me." "Nay, that is
childish," he answered, "your Father could not hinder you if you wanted
not the Mind to goe--it was your first seeming soe loth to return, that
made him think you unhappie and refuse to part with you." I sayd, "And
what if I were unhappie?" He paused; and knew not at the Moment what
Answer to make, but shortlie replyed by another Question, "What Cause
had you to be soe?" I sayd, "That was more easily askt than answered,
even if there were anie Neede I shoulde answer