she found herself once more mistress in all her rooms, equally at home in parlour and in scullery. She again and again took the law of the Frenchman, thus handsomely requiting him for his burglary; and as to the government of her own household, she laid down rules that have since been copied far and wide. But she herself followed foreign fashions in dress still further as she grew older, especially about the time that she turned Protestant. Soon after changing her creed, she is thought to have looked her very best. We must take her as we find her; it is hopeless to expect her to wear those articles that she long ago flung away at the friar's behest; but all lovers of good taste will be sorry, if she hide the goodly old homespun weeds that still remain to her, under a heap of new-fangled Italian gewgaws. She is sometimes to be met with abroad, dight in comely apparel; plain in her neatness, she seems fondest of the attire she brought with her from over the sea, though she shrinks not from wearing a fair proportion of the French gear which she cannot now do without, thanks to her unwisdom when she lived in the scullery. Arrayed on this wise, she can hold her own, so skilful judges say, against all comers; she need not fear the rivalry of the proudest ladies ever bred in Greece or Italy. But sometimes the silly wench seems to be given over to the Foul Fiend of bad taste; she comes out in whimsical garments that she never knew until the other day; she decks herself in outlandish ware of all the colours of the rainbow, hues that she has not the wit to combine;[1] heartily ashamed of her own home,
- ↑ The word penology, to wit.
