leathern purse a curiously-twisted
ribband.

"He twined this knot for your comfort. Throw it over your left shoulder,
and it shall write the first letter of your gallant's name. A cypher of
rare workmanship."

Kate, apparently in anger, snatched the magic ribband, and, peradventure
it might be from none other design than to rid herself of the mystical
love-knot, but she tossed it from her with an air of great contumely,
when, by some disagreeable and untoward accident, it chanced to fly over
the self-same shoulder to which Timothy had referred. He made no reply,
but followed the token with his little grey eyes, apparently without any
sort of aim or concernment. Kate's eyes followed too; but verily it were
a marvellous thing to behold how the ribband shaped itself as it fell,
and yet to see how she stamped and stormed. Quick as the burst of her
proud temper she kicked aside the bauble, but not until the curl of the
letter had been sufficiently manifest. Timothy drew back into his den,
leaving the fair maid to the indulgence of her humours. But in the end
Kate's wrath was not over-difficult to assuage. With an air somewhat
dubious and disturbed she hastily thrust the token behind her stomacher
and departed.

The merchant's house being nigh unto the market cross, Kate's
prettily-spangled feet were soon safely conducted over the low
stepping-stones placed at convenient distances for the transit of
foot-passengers through the unpaved streets. Near a sort of style,
guarding the entrance to the churchyard, rose an immense pile of
buildings, cumbrous and uncouth. These were built something in the
fashion of an inverted pyramid; to wit, the smaller area occupying the
basement, and the larger spreading out into the topmost story. As she
turned the corner of this vast hive of habitation--for many families
were located therein--a gay cavalier, sumptuously attired, swept round
at the same moment. Man and maid stood still for one instant. With
unpropitious courtesy, an unlucky gust turned aside Kate's veil of real
Flanders point; and the two innocents, like silly sheep, were staring
into each other's eyes without either apology or rebuke. It did seem as
though Kate were not without knowledge of the courtly beau: a rich and
glowing vermilion came across her neck and face, like the gorgeous blush
of evening upon the cold bosom of a snow-cloud. But the youth eyed her
with a cool and deliberate glance, stepping aside carelessly as he