ich she amused herself in the only way she could find--watching the
family and their guest, Lord Wilmot. They sat in the bay window,
conversing in low tones, a few words now and then reaching Jenny in her
corner, but only just enough to give her an idea that they were speaking
of the young fugitive King, and of the sore straits to which he might be
reduced. His stay at Boscobel House, and his subsequent adventure in
the oak, so well known in future years, were discussed at length, for it
was only a few days since they had happened.

"What a mercy the leaves were on the trees!" said Mrs Lane.

"Ay, in very deed," replied the Colonel. "Had the boughs been bare, His
Majesty had been taken without fail."

"I saw him two days gone," added Lord Wilmot, "and a sorry sight he was:
his dress a leather doublet, with pewter buttons; a pair of old green
breeches and a coat of the same; his own stockings, the embroidered tops
cut off; a pair of old shoes, too small for him, cut and slashed to give
ease to his feet; an old, grey, greasy hat, without lining, and a noggen
shirt of the coarsest linen."

The word _noggen_ originally meant made of hemp, and had come to signify
any texture which was thick, rough, and clumsy.

"Poor young gentleman!" exclaimed Mrs Lane.

"What a condition for the King of England!" said the Colonel,
indignantly.

"Ay, truly," answered Lord Wilmot. "The disgrace is England's, not his
own."

Mr Lane was one of the party this evening. He was an elderly man, and
an invalid, mostly keeping to his own quiet room. Mrs Lane, who was
younger, and much more active, managed the house and estate with the
help of her son; and the Colonel having for some years been practically
the master, was generally spoken of as such among the tenants. The old
man now rose, and said that he would go back to his own chamber. The
Colonel gave his arm to his father to help him upstairs; and Mrs Jane,
turning from the window, caught sight of Jenny's tired, dull look.

"Come, we have had enough of talk!" said she. "Sweep the rushes aside,
and let us end the evening with a dance."

"You were best to dance after supper," responded her mother, glancing at
the clock. "There is but a half-hour now."

Mrs Jane assented to this, and going to the virginals, called Jenny to
come and sing. The half-hour passed rapidly, until the server, or
waiter, came to say that supper was served in the hall, and the party
sat down.

As Je