s this road on?" asked she.

"Nought. We 'n getten th' hens to lay 'em. Down i' th' market they're
four a penny."

"Eggs--four a penny!" ejaculated the horrified cook.

"Ay--they're a bonnie price, aren't they? Ten to a dozen the penny at
Keswick. Chickens be twopence and threepence apiece."

Rachel turned and faced her colleague with a solemn air. "Charity
Ashworth, wilt thou tell me what we've come here for?"

"`To do our duty in that state of life to which it shall please God to
call us,'" said Charity, sturdily. "There's twenty hens i' yon yard at
th' end o' th' garden, and two cows i' th' shippen, and three black pigs
i' th' sty,--Mistress Joyce ordered 'em--and two pairs o' hands, and two
brains, and two hearts, and the grace o' God: and if thou wants aught
more, thou'lt have to ask Him for it. So now let's be sharp and see to
th' supper."

As they sat at breakfast the next morning, which was Lady Day and
Sunday, Lady Louvaine said--

"I would fain know what manner of neighbours we shall have here, whether
pleasant or displeasant; for some of our comfort shall hang thereon."

"Oh, there's a capital fellow at the Golden Fish," cried Aubrey. "His
name is Tom Rookwood, and his sister Dorothy is the prettiest girl I
have seen this month. I know nought of the Angel."

"Ah!" said Hans, and shook his head, "I have seen the Angel."

"And is he angelic?" responded Aubrey.

"There be angels good and ill," Hans made answer. "Madam, I were best
forewarn you--there's a tongue dwelleth there."

"What manner of tongue, Hans?" said Lady Louvaine, smiling.

"One that goes like a beggar's clap-dish," said he; "leastwise, it did
all the while I was in the garden this morning. She greeted me o'er the
wall, and would know who we were, and every one of our names, and what
kin we were one to the other, and whence we came, and wherefore, and how
long we looked to tarry--she should have asked me what we had to our
breakfast, if I had not come in."

"And how much toldest her?" inquired Temperance.

"Not a word that I could help," answered Hans. "Indeed, that is the
only comfort of her--that she asks questions so fast you can scarce
slide in an answer. She was free enough with her information as well--
told me her name, and how many children she had, and that she paid
three-and-fourpence the yard for her perpetuance gown."

"And what is her name?" asked Faith.

"Silence Abbott," said he.

"She scarce answe