ut they do. Come, speak up, woman! and
let's hear all about it."

"I have promised nothing," said Alice calmly; "nor am I like so to do.
Wherefore the Bishop let me go free cannot I tell you; but I reckon that
Edward here wist more of the inwards thereof than I. How go matters
with you, Tabitha?"

"Oh, as to the inwards," said the brown hood, with a short, satirical
laugh, "I guess I know as much as you or Edward either; 'twas rather the
outwards I made inquiry touching. Me? Oh, I'm as well as common, and
so be folks at home; I've given Friswith a fustigation, and tied up Joan
to the bedpost, and told our Tom he'd best look out. He hasn't the
spirit of a rabbit in him. I'd fain know where he and the childre 'd be
this day month, without I kept matters going."

"How fares Christabel, I pray you?"

"Oh, same as aforetime; never grows no better, nor no worser. It caps
me. She doesn't do a bit o' credit to my physicking--not a bit. And
I've dosed her with betony, and camomile, and comfrey, and bugloss, and
hart's tongue, and borage, and mugwort, and dandelion--and twenty herbs
beside, for aught I know. It's right unthankful of her not to mend; but
childre is that thoughtless! And Roger, he spoils the maid--never
stands up to her a bit--gives in to every whim and fantasy she takes in
her head. If she cried for the moon, he'd borrow every ladder in the
parish and lash 'em together to get up."

"What 'd he set it against?" gruffly demanded Mr Benden, who had not
uttered a word before.

"Well, if he set it against your conceit o' yourself, I guess he'd get
high enough--a good bit higher than other folks' conceit of you. I
marvel if you're ashamed of yourself, Edward Benden. I am."

"First time you ever were ashamed of yourself."

"Ashamed of _myself_?" demanded Tabitha Hall, in tones of supreme
contempt, turning her face full upon the speaker. "You'll not butter
your bread with that pot o' dripping, Edward Benden, if you please.
You're not fit to black my shoes, let alone Alice's, and I'm right
pleased for to tell you so."

"Good even, Mistress Hall; 'tis time we were at home."

"Got a home-truth more than you wanted, haven't you? Well, 'tis time
enough Alice was, so go your ways; but as where 'tis time you were, my
dainty master, that's the inside of Canterbury Gaol, or a worser place
if I could find it; and you've got my best hopes of seeing you there one
o' these days. Good den."

The bay horse