anybody? Go and see 'em,
don't you, and talk with 'em, and get 'em to do things for you? The
good Lord always keeps His door open, and turns away none as come."

At that moment Tom came in, with a hearty welcome to his guest. Jenny,
helped by Molly, bustled about, setting the table, and cutting bread and
butter, while Tom drew the ale; and they had just sat down when a little
rap came on the door.

"Anybody at home here?" asked a bright voice. Jenny knew it at once.

"O Mrs Jane!--I crave pardon, my Lady!--pray you come in, and do us the
honour to sit down in our house."

"I'll do you more honour than that," said Lady Fisher comically, as she
came forward. "I'll eat that bread and butter, if you'll give it me,
for I have been a great way afoot, and I am as hungry as a hunter."

"I pray you take a chair, madam, and do us so much pleasure," said
smiling Jenny. "I have here in the oven a cake but just ready to come
forth, made the Princess Elizabeth's way, His Majesty's sister, and I
shall be proud if your ladyship will taste it."

"I'll taste it vastly, if I get the chance," said Lady Fisher, laughing,
as Jenny took her cake out of the oven.

The Princess Elizabeth was that young gentle girl who had died a
prisoner at Carisbrooke Castle, a few years after her father's murder,
her cheek resting on the little Bible which had been his last gift. Her
cake was a rich plum-cake, made with cream, eggs, and butter.

"Did you get your other honour, Jenny?" asked Lady Fisher, as she helped
herself to the cake.

"Madam?" asked Jenny, in some doubt.

"Why, the jewel His Majesty sent you. I was something inclined to doubt
Featherstone might forget it."

"Oh yes, madam, I thank you for asking, I have it quite safe. It was a
vast surprise to me, and most kind and gracious of His Majesty."

"Well, now I think it was very ungracious in His Majesty," said Lady
Fisher, laughing. "I am sure he ought to have sent it to Millicent
here, who reckoned him a Roundhead and an assassin to boot, if he meant
to show how forgiving he could be to his enemies."

"Oh!" cried Millicent, clasping her hands, "shall I ever forget how the
dear King took me by the hand? To think of having touched the hand of
His Sacred Majesty--"

"Hold, Millicent! that's a new story," said Lady Fisher. "Last time I
heard you tell it, that horrid creature, Will Jackson, only offered to
take you by the hand. Has he got it done by now?"

Millicent