Chapter 26

When I sawe tyme I went to Sapience,

Shewyng to her with all my diligence

Howe that my hart by Venus was trapt,

With a snare of love so prively bewrapt.

— Stephen Hawes, The pastime of pleasure (1509)

Whatever misgivings Adela's rash words gave rise to in Lord Dere's bosom, he did not speak of them. Indeed, the following day he urged the two young ladies to visit the draper's.

"You will need fabric for a full mourning dress, Mrs. Merritt," he told them over breakfast. "A fair amount of bombazine and crape, I daresay. While you Barstows already wear crape bands and bonnets and such for the late Mr. Barstow, you might like to refurbish your trappings. Therefore, you had better visit Wilding nor did he glance behind him when she hesitated at the door to throw Weatherill one last, anguished look, her bruised lips just moving, mouthing a final message: Good-bye.