ng round hastily they saw a peasant woman with a large
basket on her arm.

"No," said Cicely courteously, "we have only come out to take the air
before breakfast."

"I crave pardon," said the woman, curtseying, "the pretty lady belongs
to the great folk down yonder. Would she look at my poor wares? Here
are beads and trinkets of the goodly stones, pins and collars,
bracelets and eardrops, white, yellow, and purple," she said,
uncovering her basket, where were arranged various ornaments made of
Derbyshire spar.

"We have no money, good woman," said Cicely, rising to return, vaguely
uncomfortable at the woman's eye, which awoke some remembrance of
Tibbott the huckster, and the troubles connected with her.

"Yea, but if my young mistress would only bring me in to the Great Lady
there, I know she would buy of me my beads and bracelets, of give me an
alms for my poor children. I have five of them, good young lady, and
they lie naked and hungry till I can sell my few poor wares, and the
yeomen are so rough and hard. They would break and trample every poor
bead I have in pieces rather than even let my Lord hear of them. But
if even my basket could be carried in and shown, and if the good Earl
heard my sad tale, I am sure he would give license."

"He never does!" said Diccon, roughly; "hold off, woman, do not hang on
us, or I'll get thee branded for a vagabond."

The woman put her knuckles into her eyes, and wailed out that it was
all for her poor children, and Cicely reproved him for his roughness,
and as the woman kept close behind them, wailing, moaning, and
persuading, the boy and girl were wrought upon at last to give her
leave to wait outside the gate of the inn garden, while they saw
whether it was possible to admit her or her basket.

But before they reached the gate, they saw a figure beyond it, scanning
the hill eagerly. They knew him for their father even before he
shouted to them, and, as they approached, his voice was displeased:
"How now, children; what manners are these?"

"We have only been on the hillside, sweet father," said Cis, "Diccon
and I together. We thought no harm."

"This is not Sheffield Chase, Cis, and thou art no more a child, but a
maiden who needs to be discreet, above all in these times. Whom did I
see following you?"

"A poor woman, whom--Ha, where is she?" exclaimed Cis, suddenly
perceiving that the woman seemed to have vanished.

"A troublesome begging woman who beset us