t know who is
within?"

"I saw Sir Walter turn in at the gate to speak to father."

"Hoighty-toity!" exclaimed the old dame. "Saw Sir Walter, did we! And
what of the head and pair of shoulders that stood above those of the
knight? We did not see them!"

"Was it Master Morgan with him, Peggy?" asked Dorothy unconcernedly.

"Ask him who ran away just now," snapped Peggy. "I saw the toady
little villain sneak off. I'd ha' given my Sunday kirtle to my worst
enemy if Johnnie had espied him and known that he and thee had been
sitting cheek by jowl for an hour."

"Master Windybank is our neighbour," said Dorothy haughtily, "and he
comes hither with my father's consent."

"Ay, men are as blind as owls to each other's failings," was the tart
response. "But I can see through a quick-set hedge as far as most
folks, and know when a rascal lies in hiding behind one. Get thee
indoors and talk to Master Morgan, an honest fellow whom thy
mother--God rest her soul!--loved before death took her from us."

But Dorothy refused to be hurried. Peggy had loved her and mothered
her since she was a tiny prattler of three, and she often found her, as
she declared to her gossips, "a handful." Peggy, angry with her
nursling, turned to go, but she discharged a telling shot at parting.
"Very well!" she cried, "I'll go and bind up Master Morgan's wounds
myself. One of the bravest knights in England is attacked by a Spanish
giant in the forest. A brave lad jumps in to save him, and receives
the dagger in his own body. He comes to those who should love him, to
have the flow of his precious blood stanched; but no, good lack; we
love not brave lads--we dally away God's good time with cowards and
rascals!"

"Peggy! Peggy!" cried Dorothy, and the blue eyes were running over
again, and the cheeks were pale as a ghost's, "is Master Morgan
wounded?"

"He may be dying; the dagger perhaps was poisoned," said Peggy. "I'll
go and kiss the brave lad whilst he has wit enough left to know me.
Stay thou here, mistress; only loving hands must tend the brave!"

But Dorothy flew after her and clutched her arm. "Kiss me, Peggy!" she
wailed, "kiss me!" But Peggy refused.

"You shall not touch him, Peggy; you are my nurse, but I am his. Do
you hear?"

But the old woman was deaf, and she stalked on with her thin nose in
the air. Dorothy clung to her, and they reached the house together.
It so happened that the story of the attack had been t