sick lambs; it's all along of the shepherd's ill treatment of
the ewe that I am like to lose 'em.'

Mistress Forrester bustled away, and Mary Gifford was left with Ambrose,
who was making a hobbyhorse of a thick stick, scampering up and down, and
calling out,--

'Gee-up, Hero! I'm off to the fight with Mr Sidney.'

Mary looked at the boy with a strange, wistful smile.

'Poor child!' she murmured, 'poor child! he hath no young comrades with
whom to make merry. It is well he can be so jocund and happy. It is true
what Mistress Gifford saith, I have no home, and I must bide quietly here,
for the boy is safe, and who can tell to what danger I might not expose him
if I ventured forth with him into the world again.'

Lucy Forrester went gaily across the open ground, fearless of any danger
from horned cattle, of which there were several feeding on the short sweet
grass.

She sang as she went, out of the gladness of her heart; triumph, too,
mingled with the gladness.

How surprised Mistress Ratcliffe would be to hear she was to be a
waiting-woman to my lady the Countess of Pembroke. George had thought of
asking his mother to take her to London. Humphrey had spoken of a corner
being found for her. Now, what did it matter whether Mistress Ratcliffe
consented or not to her son's desire. She had no need to be beholden to
her. She would be lodged in a grand house, and have a place with the ladies
of the Countess's household.

Remembering how Mistress Ratcliffe had often looked down upon her and Mary,
it was a keen delight to her to feel how chagrined she would be at her
unexpected good fortune.

It was not absolutely settled yet, but she was sure Mary would give
consent, and, on the morrow, after service in the church, she would be
admitted to the grand house at Penshurst, and see the Countess herself, and
perhaps Mr Philip Sidney.

Perched on a stile to rest, Lucy indulged in a prolonged meditation on the
fair prospect which had so unexpectedly opened before her. Of course Mary
would make no real objection. No one ever did resist Mr Philip Sidney's
will, and it was he had proposed the scheme, and he wished her to be one of
his sister's waiting-women.

This gave the poor, little fluttering heart the most intense pleasure,
which she could scarcely dare to acknowledge, even to herself. Still, had
not Mr Sidney come to offer the coveted place to her--come himself? And had
he not beamed on her with his beautiful smile? Yes