ll, come home now, or Mistress Gifford will be full of fears about
you. I marvel that you should add a drop of bitterness to her full cup.'

'I hate you to talk like that,' Lucy said. 'I love Mary better than all the
world beside. No one loves her as I do.'

Humphrey Ratcliffe sighed.

'You speak rashly, like the wayward child you are. In sober earnest, Lucy,
you are too fair to wander into the village alone, and you know it.'

'I wanted to go into the park, and then you came and stopped me.'

'If I did, so much the better,' was the reply. 'I will see you over the
river, at least. Then I must return, to find out if Mr Sidney has any
commands for the morrow.'

They had reached the River Medway now--in these days scarcely more than a
shallow stream, crossed by stepping-stones, or by a narrow plank, with a
handrail on one side only. When the river was low, it was easy to cross the
ford, but, when swollen by heavy rains, it required some skill to do so,
and many people preferred to use the plank as a means of crossing the
stream.

Just as Lucy had put her foot on the first stepping-stone, and rejected all
Humphrey's offers of help with a merry laugh, they were joined by
Humphrey's brother, who was coming down the hill in the opposite direction.

'Stop! hold, Mistress Lucy!' he cried. 'Mistress Forrester, hold!'

'What for?' she said. 'I am coming over,' and with extraordinary swiftness,
Lucy sprang from stone to stone, and, reaching the opposing bank, curtseyed
to George Ratcliffe, saying,--

'Your pleasure, sir?'

'My pleasure is that you should not put your limbs in peril by scaling
those slippery stones. Why not take the bridge?'

'Because I like the ford better. Good-bye. Good-bye, Humphrey,' she called,
waving her hand to the other brother who stood on the bank.

'Good-bye, Mistress Lucy, George will take care of you now. And make all
haste homewards.'

Lucy now began to race up the steep hill at full speed, and her faithful
squire had much difficulty to keep up with her light, airy footsteps.

He was a giant in height and build, and was breathless, when, at the turn
on the side of the hill leading to Ford Manor, Lucy paused.

'You have no cause to come a step further,' she said, laughing. 'Why,
Master Ratcliffe, you are puffing like old Meg when she has pulled the cart
up the hill! Good even to you.'

'Stop, Mistress Forrester.'

'Well, now you are more respectful, I will stop. Well, pray thee, tak