ellers, though Kit Smallbones
had halted at Canterbury, to pour out entreaties to Saint Thomas, and
the vow of a steel and gilt reliquary of his best workmanship to contain
the old shoe, which a few years previously had so much disgusted Erasmus
and his companion.

Poor old fellow, he was too much crest-fallen thoroughly to enjoy even
the gladness of his little children; and his wife made no secret of her
previous conviction that he was too dunderheaded not to run into some
coil, when she was not there to look after him. The alderman was more
merciful. Since there had been no invasion from Salisbury, he had
regretted the not having gone himself to Ardres, and he knew pretty well
that Kit's power lay more in his arms than in his brain. He did not
wonder at the small gain, nor at the having lost sight of the young man,
and confidently expected the lost ones soon to appear.

As to Dennet, her eyes shone quietly, and she took upon herself to send
down to let Mistress Randall know of her nephew's return, and invite her
to supper to hear the story of his doings. The girl did not look at all
like a maiden uneasy about her lost lover, but much more like one
enjoying for the moment the immunity from a kind of burthen; and, as she
smiled, called for Stephen's help in her little arrangements, and
treated him in the friendly manner of old times, he could not but wonder
at the panic that had overpowered him for a time like a fever of the
mind.

There was plenty to speak of in the glories of the Field of the Cloth of
Gold, and the transactions with the knights and nobles; and Stephen held
his peace as to his adventure, but Dennet's eyes were sharper than
Kit's. She spied the remains of the bruise under his black curly hair;
and while her father and Tib were unravelling the accounts from Kit's
brain and tally-sticks, she got the youth out into the gallery, and
observed, "So thou hast a broken head. See here are grandmother's lily-
leaves in strong waters. Let me lay one on for thee. There, sit down
on the step, then I can reach."

"'Tis well-nigh whole now, sweet mistress," said Stephen, complying
however, for it was too sweet to have those little fingers busy about
him, for the offer to be declined.

"How gatst thou the blow?" asked Dennet. "Was it at single-stick?
Come, thou mayst tell me. 'Twas in standing up for some one."

"Nay, mistress, I would it had been."

"Thou hast been in trouble," she said, leaning on t