me after Cicely Hyde slept with me and
told me what she had from Cate Culpeper. A goodly portion of the
goods were for Cate. 'Twas Catherine. Oh, the sweetheart, the
darling! Was there ever sister like her?"

X

It was an industrious household at Drake Hill both as to men and
women folk. The fields were full of ebony backs and plying arms of
toil at sunrise, and the hum and whir of loom and spinning-wheels
were to be heard in the negro cabins and the great house as soon as
the birds.

Madam Judith Cavendish was a stern task-mistress, and especially for
these latter duties. Had it not been for the stress of favour in
which she held me, I question if my vocation as tutor to Mistress
Mary would have had much scope for the last year, since her
grandmother esteemed so highly the importance of a maid's being
versed in all domestic arts, such as the spinning and weaving of
flax and wool, and preserving and distilling and fine needlework.
She set but small store by Latin and arithmetic for a maid, not even
if she were naturally quick at them, as was Mistress Mary; and had
it not been that she was bent upon keeping me in her service at
Drake Hill, I doubt not that she would have clapped together the
maid's books, whether or no, and set her to her wheel. As it was, a
goodly part of every day was passed by her in such wise, but so fond
was my pupil of her book that often I have seen her with it propped
open, for her reference, on a chair at her side.

It was thus the next morning, the morning of the day of my Lord
Culpeper's ball. It was a warm morning, and the doors and windows of
the hall were set wide open, and all the spring wind and scent
coming in and dimity curtains flying like flags, and the gold of
Mistress Mary's hair tossing now and then in a stronger gust, and
she and Catherine cramming down their flax baskets, lest the flax
take wings to itself and fly away. Both Mary and Catherine were at
their flax-wheels, but Madam Cavendish was in the loom-room with
some of the black women. Mary had her Latin book open, as I have
said before, on a chair at her side, but Catherine span with her
fair face set to some steady course of thought, though she too was
fond of books. Never a lesson had she taken of me, holding me in
such scorn, but I questioned much at the time, and know now, that
she was well acquainted with whatever knowledge her sister had got,
having been taught by her mother and then keeping on by herself