e
breath, and make short work of what you are going to say.'

George hesitated, as much from shyness as from want of breath.

'My mother bids me say that she would fain have you sup with her on the
morrow. Say yes, Lucy; say yes.'

'Oh! I must ask permission first,' she said, 'for, you know, I am a dutiful
step-daughter; but commend me to your mother, and say I will come if they
will permit me, for I love Madam Ratcliffe's sweet pasties. We do not get
sweet pasties yonder. We are bidden to think all sweet and pleasant things
unwholesome, and so we ought to believe it is true; but I don't, for one.
Good-night.'

And Lucy was away along the rugged path at the side of the lane, with its
deep ruts and loose stones, before George Ratcliffe could say another word.

He pursued his way for another mile up the hill, till he came to a house of
rather more pretension than Ford Manor, but of the same character, with a
heavy stone portico and square bays on either side. The diamond-shaped
panes of the lattice were filled in with thick glass, which had only,
within the last few years, replaced the horn which had admitted but little
light into the room, and had been the first attempt at filling in the
windows to keep out rain and storm. Until the latter years of Henry the
Eighth's reign wooden shutters were universal even in the homes of the rich
and great.

The Ratcliffes had held their land under the lords of Penshurst for more
than two centuries, and had, as in duty bound, supplied men and arms, when
called upon to do so by their chief.

The Forresters held also the same tenure of the pasture lands and meadows
which sloped down from Ford Manor, and, in earlier times, they had been the
keepers of the woods which clothed the undulating ground about Penshurst,
and the stately beeches and chestnut trees which stand almost unrivalled in
the far stretching park, where the grand old house of the Sidneys is
situated.

But Mr Forrester, the father of Mary Gifford and Lucy, was the last of his
race, and, though his widow and daughter still occupied the Manor Farm, the
office of keeper of the woods had fallen to another family on a more
distant part of the estate, and it was only by courtesy that Mrs Forrester
was permitted to remain in the house for her life.

The Ratcliffes occupied a superior position, and Mrs Ratcliffe prided
herself on her family, and considered Mrs Forrester very much beneath her
in the social scale.

Was no