er curtsey, as George, with a rueful face, obeyed his mother
and handed his cousin up the stone steps to the porch, his mother and Lucy
following.

Mistress Ratcliffe was attired in her best gown, with a long-pointed waist
and tight sleeves slashed with purple. Her ruff rivalled the Queen's in
thickness and height; and the heavy folds of her lute-string skirt were
held out by a wide hoop, which occupied the somewhat narrow doorway as they
entered the hall.

Lucy was more than usually hungry, and did full justice to the pasties and
conserves of apples which graced the board. As she looked at Dorothy
Ratcliffe her heart swelled with triumph, for she was not slow to notice
that the household below the salt cast admiring glances at her, and that
Dorothy attracted no attention.

George's spirits had sunk below their accustomed level, and his mother
sharply reproved him for inattention to his cousin.

'You are ill performing the duties of a host, George. See, Doll's trencher
is empty, and the grace-cup is standing by your elbow unheeded. Are you
dreaming, George, or half-asleep?'

'I crave pardon, mother,' George said, with a great effort rousing himself.
'Now then, cousin Doll, let me carve you a second portion of the pasty; or,
mayhap, the wing of this roast pullet will suit your dainty appetite
better.'

Dorothy pouted.

'I have not such vulgar appetites as some folk. Nay, I thank you, cousin,
I will but taste a little whipped cream with a sweet biscuit.'

George piled up a mountain of frothy cream on one of the silver plates,
which were the pride and glory of his mother. The wooden trenchers were
used for the heavier viands; but these silver plates were brought out in
honour of guests, for the sweets or fruit which always came at the
conclusion of the repast.

These silver plates were kept brightly burnished, and Lucy, as she saw
herself reflected in hers, said, laughing,--

'It is pleasant to eat off mirrors--that is to say when what we see there
is pleasant.'

Madam Ratcliffe, although full of satisfaction to have her 'household gods'
admired, concealed it, and said, with an inclination of her head towards
Dorothy,--

'It is no novel thing for you to eat off silver, but I dare to say it is
the first time Mistress Lucy has done so.'

'That may be true, madam,' Lucy said--she was never at a loss for a
rejoinder--'but, methinks, I shall soon eat off silver every day an' I
choose to do it.'

'How so?' ask