CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
HOW A CERTAIN MAN WAS HANGED AT TYBURN.
Months passed, and the Irish maiden became one of Master Walgrave's ordinary household.

And she and my Jeannette were as sisters.
It was not without a struggle that my master and mistress were prevailed upon to open their home to the fair stranger.

At first, my master, being sorely wroth with the miscarriage of my errand to his Grace, vowed so roundly that he would turn both me and my papist wench--so he called her--out of doors, that it seemed likely there would be broken heads as well as hearts over this business.

For it was hard to keep my temper even with Jeannette's step-father, when he talked like that.
But I deemed it wise to leave the management of the matter to daintier hands than mine; and when Jeannette, clinging to her father's knees, besought him with tears at least to let the maiden stay a few days till she could find a shelter, he surlily yielded so much, provided she stayed in a chamber by herself, and brought not her papist blasphemy within earshot of any in the house.

Then, when a day after, my mistress, being won over by her sweet daughter, saw how ill and withal how gentle the maiden was, it was even permitted her to walk in the garden and exchange civilities with the two ladies of the house.