"I fear," said Kenelm, gravely, "that your change of dress betokens
the neighbourhood of those pretty girls of whom you spoke in an earlier
meeting. According to the Darwinian doctrine of selection, fine plumage
goes far in deciding the preference of Jenny Wren and her sex, only we
are told that fine-feathered birds are very seldom songsters as well. It
is rather unfair to rivals when you unite both attractions."

The minstrel laughed. "There is but one girl in my friend's house,--his
niece; she is very plain, and only thirteen. But to me the society of
women, whether ugly or pretty, is an absolute necessity; and I have been
trudging without it for so many days that I can scarcely tell you how
my thoughts seemed to shake off the dust of travel when I found myself
again in the presence of--"

"Petticoat interest," interrupted Kenelm. "Take care of yourself. My
poor friend with whom you found me is a grave warning against petticoat
interest, from which I hope to profit. He is passing through a great
sorrow; it might have been worse than sorrow. My friend is going to stay
in this town. If you are staying here too, pray let him see something
of you. It will do him a wondrous good if you can beguile him from this
real life into the gardens of poetland; but do not sing or talk of love
to him."

"I honour all lovers," said the minstrel, with real tenderness in his
tone, "and would willingly serve to cheer or comfort your friend, if I
could; but I am bound elsewhere, and must leave Luscombe, which I visit
on business--money business--the day after to-morrow."

"So, too, must I. At least give us both some hours of your time
to-morrow."

"Certainly; from twelve to sunset I shall be roving about,--a mere
idler. If you will both come with me, it will be a great pleasure to
myself. Agreed! Well, then, I will call at your inn to-morrow at twelve;
and I recommend for your inn the one facing us,--The Golden Lamb. I have
heard it recommended for the attributes of civil people and good fare."

Kenelm felt that he here received his _conge_, and well comprehended the
fact that the minstrel, desiring to preserve the secret of his name, did
not give the address of the family with whom he was a guest.

"But one word more," said Kenelm. "Your host or hostess, if resident
here, can, no doubt, from your description of the little girl and the
old man her protector, learn the child's address. If so, I should like
my companion to make frien