ed, she would have accompanied by a saucy word.

Mary Gifford, who was waiting for her sister, said gently,--

'We are to follow quickly, hasten, Lucy, Mistress Crawley is waiting.'

Lucy tossed her head and did not hurry herself even then. She had many
admirers in the neighbourhood besides George Ratcliffe, and one of them
said to him,--

'It is a shame if old Mother Crawley has that little beauty as her servant.
She will trample on her and make her life a burden to her, or I am
mistaken.'

George resented any interference about Lucy from another man, and he
greatly objected to hear her called 'a little beauty;' for George's love
for her was that of a respectful worshipper at the shrine of a divinity,
and he could not brook anything like familiar disrespect in others.

'Mistress Forrester,' he said, 'is likely to win favour wherever she may
go, and she will serve the Countess of Pembroke rather than Mistress
Crawley.'

A provoking laugh was the answer to this.

'You can know naught of the life of a household like my Lady Pembroke's.
The head waiting-woman is supreme, and the underlings are her slaves. They
may sit and stitch tapestry till they are half blind, and stoop over the
lace pillow till they grow crooked, for all my lady knows about it. Ask
Mistress Betty here, she knows what a life Mistress Crawley can lead her
slaves.'

The person addressed as Mistress Betty was beginning to answer, when George
turned away to go to the stables, where he thought Mr Sidney had probably
preceded him with Sir Fulke Greville, to examine the points of the two
fresh steeds he had purchased for the tournament. But he could see nothing
of Mr Sidney, and, meeting his brother Humphrey, he heard from him that he
had walked away down the avenue with Sir Fulke Greville, apparently in
earnest conversation, and that they would not care to be disturbed.

George lingered about disconsolately, and at last left the Park and went
towards the river, which he knew Mary Gifford and Lucy must cross on their
homeward way. At least he would have the chance of mounting guard over
Lucy, and be present if the man who had so lightly spoken of her should be
so presumptuous as to follow her.

After long waiting, George saw Lucy and her sister and Ambrose coming out
of the gateway leading from the Park, and he was well satisfied to see that
his brother Humphrey, and no other squire, was in attendance.

Ambrose was tired and a little querulous, an