sign, or
token, or Augury.

Now, as soon as we had left the gate behind us, lo, a lantern was
lifted, and we saw, by the light twinkling dimly through the horn,
instead of old Hans Heimvogel's red, sottish face, a sweet and lovely
maiden's; by reason that he had fallen into horrors, imagining that mice
were rushing over him, so that his fair granddaughter Maria was doing
duty for him. And I greeted her right graciously, inasmuch as Cousin
Maud held it to be a good sign when a smiling maid should be the first
to meet her as she came into the city gates.

As for Ann, she scarce marked that it was Maria; and when, after we were
come home, I spoke of this token of good promise, she asked me how, in
these evil days, I could find heart to think of such matters; and she
sighed and cried: "Oh, Margery, indeed I am heavy at heart! For three
long years have I taken patience and with a right good will. But the
end, meseems, is further than ever, and he who should have helped us is
disabled or ever he has stirred a finger, and even my lord Cardinal's
home-coming is put off, albeit all men know that Herdegen is as a man
in a den of lions--and I, my spirit sinks within me. And even my wise
grandmother can give me no better counsel than to 'wait patiently' and
yet again 'Wait'..."

Whereupon Susan, who had taken off from us our wet hoods, broke in with:
"Aye, Mistress Ann, and that has ever from the days of Adam and Eve,
been the best of all counsel. For life all through is but waiting for
the end; and even when we have taken the last Sacrament and our eyes are
dim in death then most of all must we take Patience, waiting for that we
shall find beyond the grave. Here below! By my soul, I myself grew grey
waiting in vain for one who long years ago gave me this ring. Others had
better luck; yet if the priest had wed us, would that have made an end
of Patience? I trow not! It might have been for weal or it might have
been for woe. A wife may go to mass every day in the month. But is that
an end of Patience? Will the storks bring her a babe or no? Will it be
a boy or a maid? And if the little one should come, after the wife has
told her beads till her fingers are sore, what will the waiting babe
turn out? Such an one as Junker Herdegen grows up to be the delight of
every eye and heart, and if that make less need of Patience meseems we
know full well! And Mistress Waldstromer, out in the forest, a lady,
she, of stern stuff, she could te