babe."

"So thou art! so thou art!" said the old man. "But now out of thy
cradle, and not yet fit to run alone; for do but see what folly thou
hadst run into if Jack and Mr Rose had not been wiser than thou!"

Robin's lip trembled, and he walked slowly away. Isoult was sorry for
the lad's disappointment, for she saw that it was sore; yet she felt
that John and Mr Rose were right, and even Dr Thorpe.

"Rose saith," resumed John, "that he thinketh not his daughter to be as
yet of ripe judgment enough to say more than shall serve for the time;
and he will therefore have no troth plighted for this present. In good
sooth, had not her mother much urged the consulting of her, methinks he
should rather have said nought unto her of the matter. `But (quoth he)
let three years pass, in the which time Robin shall have years
twenty-two, and Thekla nineteen; and if then both be of like mind, why,
I will say no further word against it.'"

"Bits o' scraps o' childre!" said Dr Thorpe, under his voice, in a tone
of scorn and yet pity which would sorely have grieved Robin, had he not
gone already.

"Be not too hard on the lad, old friend," urged John, gently. "Many
younger than he be wed daily, and I take it he hath had a disappointment
in hearing my news. I thought best not to make too much thereof in the
telling; but scorn not the lad's trouble."

"I want not to scorn neither the lad nor the trouble," answered the
Doctor. "I did but tell him it was folly; and so it is."

After this, for a while, there were fewer visits exchanged between the
Minories and West Ham; and Robin found himself quietly set to the study
of larger books, which took longer to get up than heretofore, so that
his appearances at the Vicarage were fewer also. When the families did
meet, it was as cordially as ever. Manifestly, Mr Rose's feelings were
not a whit less kindly than before; but he thought it better for Robin
that his affections should not be fed too freely.

"Jack," said Isoult, suddenly, "what discoursedst thou with Mr Rose o'
Wednesday morn, whereof I heard thee to say there was no likelihood?
Was it touching this matter of Robin?"

John had to search his memory before he could recall the incident.

"Dear heart, no!" he said, when he had done so; "it touched my Lord of
Somerset."

On the last day of July, Esther, going to the market, came in with news
which stirred Isoult's heart no little. Thomas Wriothesley, Earl of
Southampton,