a, but Selis
has swallowed two, and--"

"_Those_ buttons! Graven silver, as I'm a living woman! I'll shake him
while I can stand over him! And only one blessed dozen I had of them,
and the price she charged me--The little scoundrel! Couldn't he have
swallowed the common leaden ones?"

"Weren't so attractive, probably," said Osbert, as Anania hurried away,
without any leave-taking, to bestow on her son and heir, aged six, the
shaking she had promised.

"But de little child, he shall be sick!" said Agnes, looking up from her
work with compassionate eyes.

"Oh, I dare say it won't hurt him much," replied Osbert coolly, "and
perhaps it will teach him not to meddle. I wish it might teach his
mother to stay at home and look after him, but I'm afraid that's
hopeless. Good morrow!"

Little Selis seemed no worse for his feast of buttons, beyond a fit of
violent indigestion, which achieved the wonderful feat of keeping Anania
at home for nearly a week.

"You've had a nice quiet time, Aunt Isel," said Stephen. "Shall I see
if I can persuade Selis to take the rest of the dozen?"

Life went on quietly--for the twelfth century--in the little house in
Kepeharme Street. That means that nobody was murdered or murderously
assaulted, the house was not burned down nor burglariously entered, and
neither of the boys lost a limb, and was suffered to bleed to death, for
interference with the King's deer. In those good old times, these
little accidents were rather frequent, the last more especially, as the
awful and calmly-calculated statistics on the Pipe Rolls bear terrible
witness.

Romund married, and went to live in the house of his bride, who was an
heiress to the extent of possessing half-a-dozen houses in Saint Ebbe's
parish. Little Rudolph grew to be seven years old, a fine fearless boy,
rather more than his quiet mother knew how to manage, but always
amenable to a word from his grave father. The Germans had settled down
peaceably in various parts of the country, some as shoemakers, some as
tailors, some as weavers, or had hired themselves as day-labourers to
farmers, carpenters, or bakers. Several offers of marriage had been
made to Ermine, but hitherto, to the surprise of her friends, all had
been declined, her brother assenting to this unusual state of things.

"Why, what do you mean to do, Gerard?" asked Isel of her, when the last
and wealthiest of five suitors was thus treated. "You'll never have a
better