"Is it that you are writing now, father?"
"Nay, indeed," said he, slowly, and a cloud came over his face. "That was written by one that was my good friend in by-gone days; by one that was betrayed and done to death by lying tongues, and had but sorry favor shown him in the end by those he had served."
He turned away. She thought she heard him say, "My noble Essex," but she was mutely following him. And then he said:
He kept walking up and down, by himself, while her nimble fingers were busy with the bushes; and when she had collected a sufficiency of the fruit, and brought it to him, she found that he appeared to be in no hurry this morning, but was now grown cheerful again, and rather inclined to talk to her. And she was far from telling him that her proper place at this moment was within-doors, to see that the maids were getting things forward; and if she bestowed a thought of any kind on the good parson, it was to the effect that both he and the dinner would have to wait. Her father had hold of her by the arm. He was talking to her of all kinds of things, as they slowly walked up and down the path, but of his friends in Stratford mostly, and their various ways of living; and this she conceived to have some reference to his project of withdrawing altogether from London, and settling down for good among them. Indeed, so friendly and communicative was he on this clear morning--in truth, they were talking like brother and sister--that when at last he went into the summer-house, she made bold to follow; and when he chanced to look at some sheets lying on the table, she said:
"Father, what is the story of the man with the devices?"
For an instant he did not understand what she meant; then he laughed.
"Nay, pay you no heed to such things, child."
"And why should not I, father, seeing that they bring you so great honor?"
"Honor, said you?" but then he seemed to check himself. This was not Julius Shawe, to whom he could speak freely enough about the conditions of an actor's life in London. "Well, then, the story is of a banished duke, a man of great wisdom and skill, and he is living on a desert island with his daughter--a right fair maiden she is, too, and she has no other companion in the world but himself."