"Hast thou thyself been cautious, Janet?" said the Countess; "this
guide, in whom I must put my confidence, hast thou not entrusted to him
the secret of my condition?"
"From me he has learned nothing," said Janet; "nor do I think that he
knows more than what the public in general believe of your situation."
"And what is that?" said the lady.
"That you left your father's house--but I shall offend you again if I go
on," said Janet, interrupting herself.
"Nay, go on," said the Countess; "I must learn to endure the evil report
which my folly has brought upon me. They think, I suppose, that I have
left my father's house to follow lawless pleasure. It is an error which
will soon be removed--indeed it shall, for I will live with spotless
fame, or I shall cease to live.--I am accounted, then, the paramour of
my Leicester?"
"Most men say of Varney," said Janet; "yet some call him only the
convenient cloak of his master's pleasures; for reports of the profuse
expense in garnishing yonder apartments have secretly gone abroad, and
such doings far surpass the means of Varney. But this latter opinion is
little prevalent; for men dare hardly even hint suspicion when so high a
name is concerned, lest the Star Chamber should punish them for scandal
of the nobility."
"They do well to speak low," said the Countess, "who would mention the
illustrious Dudley as the accomplice of such a wretch as Varney.--We
have reached the postern. Ah! Janet, I must bid thee farewell! Weep not,
my good girl," said she, endeavouring to cover her own reluctance to
part with her faithful attendant under an attempt at playfulness; "and
against we meet again, reform me, Janet, that precise ruff of thine for
an open rabatine of lace and cut work, that will let men see thou hast
a fair neck; and that kirtle of Philippine chency, with that bugle lace
which befits only a chambermaid, into three-piled velvet and cloth of
gold--thou wilt find plenty of stuffs in my chamber, and I freely bestow
them on you. Thou must be brave, Janet; for though thou art now but
the attendant of a distressed and errant lady, who is both nameless and
fameless, yet, when we meet again, thou must be dressed as becomes the
gentlewoman nearest in love and in service to the first Countess in
England."
"Now, may God grant it, dear lady!" said Janet--"not that I may go
with gayer apparel, but that we may both wear our kirtles over lighter
hearts."