ffrey in her
lap, she soothed and rocked him until he fell asleep, and forgot all
about his bruised arm. The boy had been asleep about a quarter of an
hour, when the recollection suddenly flashed upon Margery's mind that
she had left the book open to all comers and goers, instead of putting
it carefully away, as was her wont. She set down the child softly on
the trussing-bed, (the curious name given by our forefathers to a piece
of furniture which formed a sofa or travelling-bed at pleasure), and
quietly opening the door into her bower, she saw--her husband standing
on the hearth, with the book in his hand, and a very decided frown
gathering on his countenance. The rustle of Margery's dress made Lord
Marnell look up.

"What meaneth this, I pray you, mistress?" asked he, angrily.

There was no need, had Margery felt any disposition, to attempt further
concealment. The worst that could come, had come.

"It is a book of mine," she quietly answered, "which I left here a short
season agone, when the boy's cry started me."

"Hast read it?" asked Lord Marnell, no less harshly.

"I have read it many times, good my Lord."

"And I pray you for to tell me whence you had it, good my Lady?" said
he, rather ironically.

Margery was silent. She was determined to bear the blame alone, and not
to compromise either Pynson or Carew.

"Had you this book since you came hither?" said Lord Marnell, varying
the form of his question, when he saw she did not answer.

"No, my Lord. I brought it with me from home."

And the word "home" almost brought the tears into her eyes.

"Your father--Sir Geoffrey--knew he thereof?"

"He did," said Margery, "and rebuked me sharply therefor."

"He did well. Why took he not the book from you?"

"Because he showed it to Friar Andrew Rous, his and my confessor, who
thought there was no harm in the book, and that I might safely retain
the same."

"Then Friar Andrew Rous is the longest-eared ass I have lightly seen.
Whence got you this book?"

"It is mine own writing. I copied it."

"Whence had you it?"

No answer.

"I say, whence had you this book?" roared Lord Marnell.

"My Lord," said Margery, gently, but decidedly, "I think not that it
needeth to say whence I had the same. The book was lent unto me, whence
I copied that one; but I say not of whom it was lent unto me."

"You shall say it, and soon too!" was the reply. "This matter must not
be let drop--it passeth into the han