On this
occasion of his return, my lord Duke going to give her greeting, found
her parting with a friend, a comely country woman who left them
courtesying, and Mistress Halsell sate in her armchair with somewhat of
a glow in her grave eyes. And after their first exchange of words the
room was for a few moments very quiet.
"Your Grace," she said, "before she, who has just left us, came, I
sate here and thought of a day many a year ago when you and I sate
together, and your Grace climbed on my knee."
"I have climbed there many a time, Nurse Halsell," he said, his brown
eye opening, laughing, as it had a trick of doing.
"But this time was a grave one," Mistress Halsell answered. "We talked
of grave things, and in my humble way I strove to play Chaplain and
preach a sermon. You had heard Grace and Alison gossip of King Charles
and Madam Carwell and Nell Gwynne--and would ask questions it was hard
to answer."
"I remember well," said my lord Duke, the light of memory in his eye,
and he added, as one who reflects, "He is the King--he is the King!"
"You remember!" said Nurse Halsell, her old eyes glowing. "I have never
forgot, and your Grace's little face so lost in thought, as you looked
out at the sky."
"I have remembered it," said his Grace, "in many a hard hour such as
comes in all men's lives."
"You have known some such?" said the old woman, and of a sudden, as she
gazed at him, it seemed as if such feeling overswept her as made her
forget he was a great Duke and remember only her beauteous nurseling.
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