le, the fourth with a low wall backed
by a row of poplar trees, looking out on the alternate mud and
sluggish waters of Fareham creek, but with a beautiful garden behind
the house.

The welcome was hearty. Lady Archfield at once conducted Mrs.
Woodford to her own bedroom, where she was to rest and be served
apart, and Anne disrobed her of her wraps, covered her upon the bed,
and at her hostess's desire was explaining what refreshment would
best suit her, when there was a shrill voice at the door: "I want
Mistress Anne! I want to show her my clothes and jewels."

"Coming, child, she is coming when she has attended to her mother,"
responded the lady. "White wine, or red, did you say, Anne, and a
little ginger?"

"Is she never coming?" was again the call; and Lady Archfield
muttering, "Was there ever such an impatient poppet?" released Anne,
who was instantly pounced upon by young Mrs. Archfield. Linking her
arm into that of her visitor, and thrusting Lucy into the
background, the little heiress proceeded to her own wainscotted
bedroom, bare according to modern views, but very luxurious
according to those of the seventeenth century, and with the toilette
apparatus, scanty indeed, but of solid silver, and with a lavish
amount of perfumery. Her 'own woman' was in waiting to display and
refold the whole wedding wardrobe, brocade, satin, taffetas,
cambric, Valenciennes, and point d'Alencon. Anne had to admire each
in detail, and then to give full meed to the whole casket of jewels,
numerous and dazzling as befitted a constellation of heirlooms upon
one small head. They were beautiful, but it was wearisome to repeat
'Vastly pretty!' 'How exquisite!' 'That becomes you very well,'
almost mechanically, when Lucy was standing about all the time,
longing to exchange the girlish confidences that were burning to
come forth. 'Young Madam,' as every one called her in those times
when Christian names were at a discount, seemed to be jealous of
attention to any one else, and the instant she saw the guest attempt
to converse with her sister-in-law peremptorily interrupted, almost
as if affronted.

Perhaps if Anne had enjoyed freedom of speech with Lucy she would
not have learnt as much as did her mother, for the young are often
more scrupulous as to confidences than their seniors, who view them
as still children, and freely discuss their affairs among
themselves.

So Lady Archfield poured out her troubles: how her daughte