feet."

A MOTHER OF QUEENS.

_A ROMANCE OF HISTORY._

One day, I will not say how many years ago, a young woman stepped from a
country waggon that had just arrived at the famous Chelsea inn, "the
Goat and Compasses," a name formed by corrupting time out of the pious
original, "God encompasseth us."

The young woman seemed about eighteen years of age and was neatly
dressed, though in the plain rustic fashion of the times. She was well
formed and good-looking, both form and looks giving indications of the
ruddy health due to the bright sun and the fresh air of the country.

After stepping from the waggon, which the driver immediately led into
the court-yard, the girl stood for a moment uncertain which way to go,
when the mistress of the inn, who had come to the door, observed her
hesitation, and asked her to enter and take a rest.

The young woman readily accepted the invitation, and soon after, by the
kindness of the landlady, found herself by the fireside of a nicely
sanded parlour, with a good meal before her--welcome indeed after her
long and tedious journey.

"And so, my girl," said the landlady, after having heard the whole
particulars of the young woman's situation and history, "so thou hast
come all this way to seek service, and hast no friend but John Hodge,
the waggoner? Truly, he is like to give thee but small help, wench,
towards getting a place."

"Is service, then, difficult to be had?" asked the young woman, sadly.

"Ay, marry, good situations, at least, are somewhat hard to find. But
have a good heart, child," said the landlady, and as she continued she
looked round her with an air of pride and dignity; "thou see'st what I
have come to, myself; and I left the country a young thing, just like
thyself, with as little to look to. But 'tisn't every one, for certain,
that must look for such a fortune, and, in any case, it must first be
worked for. I showed myself a good servant before my poor old Jacob,
heaven rest his soul, made me mistress of 'the Goat and Compasses.' So
mind thee, girl----"

The landlady's speech might have continued indefinitely--for the good
dame loved well to hear the sound of her own voice--but for the
interruption occasioned by the entrance of a gentleman, whom the
landlady rose and welcomed heartily.

"Ha! dame," said the new-comer, who was a stout respectably attired man
of middle age, "how sells the good ale? Scarcely a drop left in thy
cellars, I hope?"

"En