nging folk to book, and
prison too."

"There's Margaret Thurston coming across," said the younger woman, after
a moment's pause. "I rather guess she means to turn in here."

When people say "I guess" now, we set them down at once as Americans;
but in 1556 everybody in England said it. Our American cousins have
kept many an old word and expression which we have lost. See Note Two.

In another minute a woman came in who was a strong contrast to Alice
Mount. Instead of being small, round, and rosy, she was tall and spare,
and very pale, as if she might have been ill not long before. She too
carried a basket, but though it was only about half as large as Alice's,
it seemed to try her strength much more.

"Good den, neighbour!" said Alice, with a pleasant smile.

"Good den, Alice. I looked not to find you here. What come you after?"

"A piece of kersey for my bettermost gown this summer. What seek you?"

"Well, I want some linsey for mine. Go you on, and when you've made an
end I'll ask good Master Clere to show me some, without Mistress Clere's
at liberty sooner."

Alice Mount was soon satisfied. She bought ten yards of the brown
kersey, with some black buckram to line it, and then, as those will who
have time to spare, and not much to occupy their thoughts, she turned
her attention to helping Margaret Thurston to choose her gown. But it
was soon seen that Margaret was not an easy woman to satisfy. She would
have striped linsey; no, she wouldn't, she would have a self colour; no,
she wouldn't, she would have a little pattern; lastly, she did not know
which to have! What did Master Clere think? or what would Alice
recommend her?

Master Clere calmly declined to think anything about it.

"Take it or leave it," said he. "You'll have to do one or t'other.
Might as well do it first as last."

Margaret turned from one piece to another with a hopelessly perplexed
face. There were three lying before her; a plain brown, a very dark
green with a pretty little pattern, and a delicate grey, striped with a
darker shade of the same colour.

"Brown's usefullest, maybe," said she in an uncertain tone. "Green's
none so bad, though. And that grey's proper pretty--it is a
gentlewoman's gown. I'd like that grey."

The grey was undoubtedly ladylike, but it was only fit for a lady, not
for a working man's wife who had cooking and cleaning to do. A week of
such work would ruin it past repair.

"You have the bro