d
her maid was a smart tap at the door of Mistress Bridget, her
bed-chamber, where she was indulging in reverie and romance; but the
day being hot, she had fallen asleep, and was dreaming of "hearts,
darts, and love's fires." She started from this mockery of bliss at
the summons.

"Prithee, Marian, what is it?"

"A billet from--I don't care to tell who!"

"A billet, sayest thou?--eh!--who can it be? What! It is--go away, my
good Marian; I cannot--oh! when will my poor heart----'_Waft a cargo
of love to thy bosom._' '_Melt in the furnace._' Dear, delightful
passion! How pure! Just like mine own, I declare. '_Harder than
adamant._' Nay, thou wrongest me. Prithee, Marian, who--where is he?"

"A trusty messenger is below." She dropped a handsome curtsy.

"Give me my tablets and my writing-stool. O Marian! little did I think
of this yesterday. When I was telling thee of--of--oh, I am
distraught!"

She commenced a score of times ere something in the shape of a
communication could be despatched.

"There--there; let it be conveyed quick. Nay, I will see him myself.
Lead me to him, girl. I will say how--and yet, this may look too bold
and unmaidenly. Take it, good girl, and say--what thou thinkest best."

Lightly did the laughing maiden trip through the great hall into the
buttery, where Hodge was ambushed along with a huge pie, fast
lessening under his inspection. Her intention was not to have given
him the billet, but she was suddenly alarmed at the approach of
Mistress Bridget. Fearful lest the deception might be discovered, she
hastily gave Hodge the precious deposit, trusting to some favourable
opportunity when she might extract the letter from his pouch. An
occasion shortly occurred, and Hodge was despatched, as we have seen,
billetless, and unconscious of his loss.

The lover was sore puzzled how to proceed. It was possible--nay, more
than probable--that the message might have appointed a meeting; or
twenty other matters, which he was utterly unable to conjecture,
woman's brain being so fertile in expedients; and if he obeyed not her
injunctions it might be construed amiss, and unavoidably prove
detrimental to his suit. Should he send back the messenger? She would
perhaps laugh at him for his pains; and he was too much afraid of her
caprice to peril his adventure on this issue. A happy thought crossed
his brain; he capered about his little chamber; and could hardly
govern himself as the brilliant conception bl