ar, sharp tones, "and what is going to
be done next?"

"O madam, I am going to him. I can do naught else," answered
Gertrude, whose face was like an April morning, all smiles and
tears blended together. "I cannot let him lie wanting me and
wearying for me."

"Humph! I thought you had shown yourself a girl of spirit, and had
sent him about his business when he came a-wooing, eh?"

"O madam, I did so. I thought that duty bid me; but I have repented
so bitterly since! They say that 'twas since then he fell into the
melancholy which was like to make him fall ill of the distemper.
Oh, if he were to die, I should feel his blood on my head. I should
never hold it up again. I cannot let anything keep me from him now.
I must go to him in my poverty and tell him all. He must be the
judge!"

Lady Scrope uttered a little snort, although her face bore no
unkindly look.

"Child, child, thou art a veritable woman! I had thought better
things of thee, but thou art just like the rest. Thou wilt gladly
lie down in the dust, so as the one man shall trample upon thee,
whilst thou dost adore him the more for it. Go to! go to! Maids and
lovers be all alike. Fools every one of them! But for all that I
like thee. I have an old woman's fancy for thee. And since in these
days none may reckon on seeing the face of a departing friend
again, I give now into thine hands the wedding gift I have had in
mine eyes for thee.

"Nay, thank me not; and open it not save at the bedside of thy
betrothed husband--if thou art fool enough to betroth thyself to
one who as like as not will die of the plague before the week is
out.

"And now off with you both. If you tarry too long, the watch will
not believe you to be honest market folks, and will hinder your
flight. Good luck go with you; and when ye be come to the city
again--if ever that day arrive--come hither and tell me all the
tale of your folly and love. Although a wise woman myself, I have a
wondrous love of hearing tales of how other folks make havoc of
their lives by their folly."

Gertrude took the box, which amazed her by its weight, and
suggested ideas of value quite out of keeping with what she had any
reason to expect from one so little known to her as Lady Scrope.
She thanked the donor with shy gratitude, and pressed the withered
hand to her fresh young lips. Lady Scrope, a little moved despite
her cynical fashion of talking, gave her several affectionate
kisses; and then the other gi