he was
dressed in green samite, trimmed with ermine. On her left hand rode the
Earl of Lincoln, on her right, her eldest surviving son, the little
Prince Alphonso, who was only seven years old. He died at the age of
eleven. After the Queen rode her two damsels, Aubrey de Caumpeden and
Ermetrude; and after them and the officers of the household came a
number of lesser people, the mob of sight-seers closing in and following
them up the street. [See Note 1.] Her Majesty rode up Steephill to the
Castle, where the Countess of Lincoln and her daughter Lady Margaret--a
girl of about fifteen--received her just inside the gate. Then the mob
cheered, the Queen looked back with a smile and a bow, the Almoner flung
a handful of silver pennies among them, the portcullis was hauled down,
and the sight was over.

As Emma turned back from the Castle gate, she met her father and her
sister Eleanor, who, like her, had been sight-seeing.

"Well!" said Dan, "did thou see her?"

"Oh yes, beautifully!" answered Emma. "Isn't she handsome, Father?"

"`Handsome is as handsome does,'" philosophically returned Dan. "Some
folks looks mighty handsome as doesn't do even to it. _She_ was just
like a pictur' when I wed her. Ay, she was, so!--Where art thou going,
Emma?"

"I thought of looking in on Aunt Avice, Father. Are you and Eleanor
coming, too?"

"I'm not," said Eleanor. "I'm going to see Laurentia atte Gate. So
I'll wish you good even."

She kept straight on, while Dan and Emma turned off for Avice's house.
It was not surprising that they found nobody at home but the turnspit
dog, who was sufficiently familiar with both to wag a welcome; but
somebody sat in the chimney-corner who was not at home, but was a
visitor like themselves. When the door was unlatched, Father Thomas
closed the book he had been reading and looked up.

"Good even, Father," said Dan to the priest. "I reckon you've come o'
th' same errand as us."

"What is that, my son?"

Dan sat down on the form, and put a big hand on each knee.

"Well, it's some'at like t' shepherd comin' to count t' sheep, to see
'at none of 'em's missin'," said he. "It's so easy to get lost of a big
moor full o' pits and quagmires. And this world's some'at like it.--Ah,
Avice! folks as goes a-sight-seeing mun expect to find things of a
mixtur' when they gets home."

"A very pleasant mixture, Uncle," said Avice. "Pray you of your
blessing, holy Father."

Father Thomas ga