quotha! Why, thou idle
hilding [youth], I have years sixty-nine, and I never thought of
marrying yet."

Isoult laughed, but Robin was grave as a bishop, and plainly deemed
himself affronted.

"That is your affair, Dr Thorpe," said he, demurely, "and this is mine,
an't like you."

"A pretty plain hint to mind mine own business, whether it like me or
no," replied the old man, with a little merry laugh. "Well, Robin, hie
after. Are ye agreed? and is the wedding-day fixed? Shall it be
Midsummer Day? Give me a jolly piece of the cake, as what else thou
dost; and Isoult! mind thou set it mighty thick with plums."

"Dr Thorpe," said Robin, his patience woefully tried, "I wish you would
let me be. I was talking with my mother."

"Say on!" answered he. "I will strive hard to set mine old legs
a-dancing at thy wedding, though I promise not a galliardo [a dance
wherein high leaps were taken, requiring great agility]. My word on't,
it shall be a jovial sight! Hast seen the tailor touching thine attire?
Purple satin, or cramoisie?" [Crimson velvet.]

Robin's forbearance was plainly worn out. He rose and walked toward the
door.

"Nay, lad, come!" called the old man. "I meant not in deed to grieve
thee. Come back, Robin, and I will cease flouting thee, if it trouble
thee. Come back, thou silly child!"

Robin turned back, after a moment's thought, and sat down on the settle
he had left.

"I take your word for it, Dr Thorpe," he said, soberly. "But think you
it not too grave a matter for jesting?"

"Grave!" cried Dr Thorpe. "What, wouldst thou have it spoken of like an
execution?"

"I cry you mercy, Doctor," said Isoult, now joining in; "but in this
matter I do take part with Robin. It alway seemeth me that men (ay, and
women too), do speak with too much jesting and lightness touching this
matter, which should be right serious. A man's choice of a wife is a
choice for life, and is hardly to be talked of, meseemeth, in the same
fashion with his choice of a partlet [neck ruff]. I pray you, pardon me
if in so speaking, I fail aught in the reverence due unto your years."

"Why, dear child," saith he, "thou wist more of the matter than I, which
was never married; so talk away, and I will hold my peace, and trouble
my master the bridegroom no further. Say on, Mr Robert Tremayne."

"Methinks enough is said," answered Robin, staidly. "I await my
mother's answer."

"Which may scarce be given in a moment, R