irs. Immediately she turned again and held
out one hand to Rebecca.

"Come along, Rebecca. Let's run 'long up," she said, relapsing into her
old manner.

She led the way without hesitation to a large, light bedroom, the front
of which hung over the street. Here, too, the floor was covered with
sweet rushes, a fact which Rebecca seemed to resent.

"Why the lands sakes do you suppose these London folks dump weeds on
their floors?" she asked. "An' look there at those two beds, still
unmade and all tumbled disgraceful!"

"Why, there's where we slept last night, Rebecca," said Phoebe,
laughing as she dropped into a chair. "As for the floors," she
continued, "they're always that way when folks ain't mighty rich. The
lords and all have carpets and rugs."

Rebecca, stepping very high to avoid stumbling in the rushes, moved over
to the dressing-table and proceeded to remove her outer wraps, having
first deposited her bag and umbrella on a chair.

"I don't see how in gracious you know so much about it," she remarked,
querulously. "'Pon my word, you acted with that young jackanapes an'
that fat old lady downstairs jest's ef you'd allus known em."

"Well, so I have," Phoebe replied, smiling. "I knew them all nearly
three hundred years before you were born, Rebecca Wise."

Rebecca dropped into a chair and looked helplessly at her sister with
her arms hanging at her sides.

"Phoebe Wise--" she began.

"No, not now!" Phoebe exclaimed, stopping her sister with a gesture.
"You must call me Mistress Mary. I'm Mary Burton, daughter of Isaac
Burton, soon to be Sir Isaac Burton, of Burton Hall. You are my dear old
tiring-woman--my sometime nurse--and thou must needs yield me the
respect and obedience as well as the love thou owest, thou fond old
darling!"

The younger woman threw her arms about the other's neck and kissed her
repeatedly.

Rebecca sat mute and impassive, making no return.

"Seems as though I ought to wake up soon now," she muttered, weakly.

"Come, Rebecca," Phoebe exclaimed, briskly, stepping to a high, carved
wardrobe beside her bed, "this merry-making habit wearies me. Let us don
a fitter attire. Come--lend a hand, dearie--be quick!"

Rebecca sat quite still, watching her sister as she proceeded to change
her garments, taking from wardrobe and tiring chest her wide skirts,
long-sleeved jacket, and striped under-vest with a promptitude and
readiness that showed perfect familiarity with her surroundings.