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a sort of bush to his wide, white-frilled ruff. He wore a long-skirted, loose coat of green cloth with yellow fringe, provided with large side-pockets, but without a belt. The sleeves were loose, but brought in tightly at the wrists by yellow bands. His green hose were of the short and tight French pattern, and he wore red stockings and pointed shoes of Spanish leather. As he removed the cup with a deep sigh of satisfaction, there was revealed a large, cheerful red face with a hooked nose between bushy brows overhanging large blue eyes. Phoebe stood upon the lowest stair in smiling silence and with folded hands as he caught her eye. "Ha, thou jade!" cried Master Goldsmith, for he it was. "Wilt give me the slip of a May-day morn!" He set down his cup with a loud bang and strode over to the staircase, shaking his finger playfully at his niece. Rebecca had just time to notice that his long, full beard and mustache were decked with two or three spots of froth when, to her great indignation, Phoebe was folded in his arms and soundly kissed on both cheeks. "There, lass!" he chuckled, as he stepped back, rubbing his hands. "I told thy aunt I'd make thee do penance for thy folly." Phoebe wiped her cheeks with her handkerchief and tipped her head impudently at the cheerful ravisher. "Now, God mend your manners, uncle!" she exclaimed. "What! Bedew my cheeks with the froth of good ale on your beard while my throat lacks the good body o't! Why, I'm burned up wi' thirst!" "Good lack!" cried the goldsmith, turning briskly to the table. "Had ye no drink when ye first returned, then?" He poured a smaller cupful of foaming ale from the great silver jug and brought it to Phoebe. Rebecca clutched the stair-rail for support, and, with eyes ready to start from her head, she leaned forward, incredulous, as Phoebe took the cup from the merchant's hand. Then she could keep silence no longer. "Phoebe Wise!" she screamed, "be you goin' to drink ALE!" No words can do justice to the awful emphasis which she laid upon that last dread word. Phoebe turned and looked up roguishly at her sister, who was still half-way up the stairs. The young girl's left hand leaned on her uncle's arm, while with her right she extended the cup in salutation. "Here's thy good health, nurse--and to our better acquaintance," she laughed. Rebecca uttered one short scream and fled up to their bed-room. She had seen the impossible. Her
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