them in front of the
farrier's, waiting for my horse. Jennie Faxton, a wild, unkempt girl of
sixteen, was standing in silent admiration near Dorothy. Our backs were
turned toward the well. Suddenly a light came into Jennie's face, and she
plucked Dorothy by the skirt of her habit.

"Look, mistress, look! Look there by the well!" said Jennie in a whisper.
Dorothy looked toward the well. I also turned my head and beheld my
friend, Sir John, holding a bucket of water for his horse to drink. I had
not seen him since we parted at The Peacock, and I did not show that I
recognized him. I feared to betray our friendship to the villagers. They,
however, did not know Sir John, and I need not have been so cautious. But
Dorothy and Madge were with me, and of course I dared not make any
demonstration of acquaintanceship with the enemy of our house.

Dorothy watched John closely, and when he was ready to mount she struck
her horse with the whip, and boldly rode to the well.

"May I ask you to give my mare water?" she said.

"Certainly. Ah, I beg pardon. I did not understand," answered Sir John,
confusedly. John, the polished, self-poised courtier, felt the confusion
of a country rustic in the presence of this wonderful girl, whose
knowledge of life had been acquired within the precincts of Haddon Hall.
Yet the inexperienced girl was self-poised and unconfused, while the wits
of the courtier, who had often calmly flattered the queen, had all gone
wool-gathering.

She repeated her request.

"Certainly," returned John, "I--I knew what you said--but--but you
surprise me."

"Yes," said brazen Dorothy, "I have surprised myself."

John, in his haste to satisfy Dolcy's thirst, dashed the water against the
skirt of Dorothy's habit, and was profuse in his apologies.

"Do not mention it," said Dorothy. "I like a damp habit. The wind cannot
so easily blow it about," and she laughed as she shook the garment to free
it of the water. Dolcy refused to drink, and Dorothy having no excuse to
linger at the well, drew up her reins and prepared to leave. While doing
so, she said:--

"Do you often come to Overhaddon?" Her eager eyes shone like red coals,
and looking at John, she awaited smilingly his response.

"Seldom," answered John; "not often. I mean every day--that is, if I may
come."

"Any one may come to the village whenever he wishes to do so," responded
Dorothy, laughing too plainly at Sir John's confusion. "Is it seldom, or
not of