highest circles, as many letters still
preserved in family archives prove, and was made to suit the ear and eye of
the writer, without reference to rule or form.

The evening passed somewhat slowly. There was an evident restraint upon
every one present.

Dorothy's performance on the mandoline did not elicit much praise, except
from Mistress Ratcliffe, who was annoyed that George should seat himself on
the settle, by Lucy's side, and encourage her to talk, instead of listening
while his cousin sang a melancholy ditty, in anything but a musical voice.

When Dorothy had finished, she laid down the mandoline in a pet, and
yawning, said,--

'I am weary after my long ride from Tunbridge, Aunt Ratcliffe. I pray you
forgive me if I retire early to bed.'

'Nay, Doll, you must have a cup of spiced wine ere you go, we cannot spare
you yet.'

'It is plain I am not wanted, so I can well be spared,' was the reply, with
a disagreeable laugh and a jerk of the head in the direction of the settle.

Lucy now sprang up, saying,--

'I, too, must crave leave to bid you good evening, Mistress Ratcliffe. I
have to settle plans with my sister before I sleep to-night, and the
evening shadows are falling.'

'If you must leave us, Mistress Forrester,' Mistress Ratcliffe said
stiffly, 'I may as well inform you, with regret, that the plan proposed by
my sons for asking you to bear me company to London in a useful capacity,
cannot be fulfilled. I take my niece with me, and two serving-men on the
second horse, hence--'

'Oh! madam,' Lucy said, 'there is no need of excusations. I go to London in
the next week as waiting-woman to my lady the Countess of Pembroke. It may
be that I shall see you there, and I shall be sure to know you and Mistress
Dorothy, and make you my proper reverence, even if you have forgotten me.'

'The impudent little hussy!' Mistress Ratcliffe murmured, but she retained
her feelings, and said,--

'It is fortunate for you, Mistress Forrester, that you will be under due
control in London, for in good sooth you will need it. If you must go, good
evening.'

Lucy turned at the door and made a profound curtsey, then, drawing her
kerchief closer to her throat, she left the room, George following.

'I don't set much store by Mistress Forrester's manner, Aunt Ratcliffe,'
Dorothy said; 'an ill-bred country child, who, of course, is ignorant, so
we will pardon her.'

'Ignorant, yes,' Mistress Ratcliffe said, 'but her prett