have seen queens come to _that_, Ned Underhill."

"Well, there is better air at the Lime Hurst," replied Underhill
sententiously.

A long conference was held concerning the repairs at Bradmond. The
resolution finally adopted was that John should ride home and ascertain
what the state of affairs really was. Hitherto the family had been
living on their rents, with little need for professional work on John's
part unless it pleased him. Slight repairs, however, would entail
saving; and serious ones might keep them in London for years, until he
had laid up sufficient money to defray them.

"'Tis all in the day's work," he said lightly, to cheer his wife. "I
must have a factor to see unto the place, and for that Simon Pendexter
shall serve, if he affright not the poor tenants with his long words;
and I myself must needs set to work hard. 'Twill do me good, dear
heart; (for he saw Isoult look sad) I have hitherto been lazy, and only
have played at working."

So John left London on the first of November, along with a convoy of
travellers bound for Exeter; charging Isoult to make acquaintance in his
absence with Mrs Rose and Mrs Underhill, with the object of giving her
something to do.

"And think not, sweet wife," said he, "that we be all going a-begging,
because of what I said touching money. I cast no doubt to make more
than enough thereof in my calling to keep all us, and that comfortably;
only if there lack much outlay at Bodmin, it shall need time to gather
wherewith to pay it. Above all, I would not with my good will have any
stint in mine hospitality, specially unto them that be of the household
of faith. Leave us not turn Christ our Master out at the doors, at the
least unless we need go there ourselves with Him."

A week after John's departure, Isoult put his advice into action, rather
because he had given it, than with any real hope of dispelling the
intense loneliness she felt. Robin went with her, and Kate, all riding
upon Bayard, to West Ham, where they were directed to a small house near
the church as the residence of the parson. For in those days parson had
not lost its original honourable meaning, whereby the clergyman was
spoken of as _par excellence_ "the person" in the parish. The trio
alighted, and Isoult rapped at the door. A girl of fifteen answered the
knock.

She was tall for her age, but slenderly built. Her hair was of the
fairest shade of golden--the pale gold of our old poets--an