phen.

For a sudden twinkle in the black eyes, an involuntary twist of the
muscles of the face, were a sudden revelation to him. He clutched hold
of Ambrose with a sudden grasp; Ambrose too looked and recoiled for a
moment, while the colour spread over his face.

"Yes, lads. Can you brook the thought!--Harry Randall is the poor
fool!"

Stephen, whose composure had already broken down, burst into tears
again, perhaps mostly at the downfall of all his own expectations and
glorifications of the kinsman about whom he had boasted. Ambrose only
exclaimed, "O uncle, you must have been hard pressed." For indeed the
grave, almost melancholy man, who stood before them, regarding them
wistfully, had little in common with the lithe tumbler full of
absurdities whom they had left at York House.

"Even so, my good lad. Thou art right in that," said he gravely.
"Harder than I trust will ever be the lot of you two, my sweet Moll's
sons. She never guessed that I was come to this."

"O no," said Stephen. "She always thought thou--thou hadst some high
preferment in--"

"And so I have," said Randall with something of his ordinary humour.
"There's no man dares to speak such plain truth to my lord--or for that
matter to King Harry himself, save his own Jack-a-Lee--and he, being a
fool of nature's own making, cannot use his chances, poor rogue! And so
the poor lads came up to London hoping to find a gallant captain who
could bring them to high preferment, and found nought but--Tom Fool! I
could find it in my heart to weep for them! And so thou mindest
clutching the mistletoe on nunk Hal's shoulder. I warrant it groweth
still on the crooked May bush? And is old Bobbin alive?"

They answered his questions, but still as if under a great shock, and
presently he said, as they paced up and down the garden walks, "Ay, I
have been sore bestead, and I'll tell you how it came about, boys, and
mayhap ye will pardon the poor fool, who would not own you sooner, lest
ye should come in for mockery ye have not learnt to brook." There was a
sadness and pleading in his tone that touched Ambrose, and he drew
nearer to his uncle, who laid a hand on his shoulder, and presently the
other on that of Stephen, who shrank a little at first, but submitted.
"Lads, I need not tell you why I left fair Shirley and the good
greenwood. I was a worse fool then than ever I have been since I wore
the cap and bells, and if all had been brought home to me, it