her father's grave, and led her to Dennet, who had
just finished her round of prayers at the grave of the mother she had
never known, under the protection of her nurse, and two or three of the
servants. The child, who had thought little of her mother, while her
grandmother was alert, and supplied the tenderness and care she needed,
was beginning to yearn after counsel and sympathy, and to wonder, as she
told her beads, what might have been, had that mother lived. She took
Aldonza's hand, and the two girls threaded their way out of the crowded
churchyard together, while Perronel betook herself to the Deanery of
Saint Paul's.

Good Colet was always accessible to the meanest, but he had been very
ill, and the porter had some doubts about troubling him respecting the
substantial young matron whose trim cap and bodice, and full petticoats,
showed no tokens of distress. However, when she begged him to take in
her message, that she prayed the Dean to listen to her touching the
child of the old man who was slain on May Eve, he consented; and she was
at once admitted to an inner chamber, where Colet, wrapped in a gown
lined with lambskin, sat by the fire, looking so wan and feeble that it
went to the good woman's heart, and she began by an apology for
troubling him.

"Heed not that, good dame," said the Dean, courteously, "but sit thee
down and let me hear of the poor child."

"Ah, reverend sir, would that she were still a child--" and Perronel
proceeded to tell her difficulties, adding, that if the Dean could of
his goodness promise one of the dowries which were yearly given to poor
maidens of good character, she would inquire among her gossips for some
one to marry the girl. She secretly hoped he would take the hint and
immediately portion Aldonza himself perhaps likewise find the husband.
And she was disappointed that he only promised to consider the matter
and let her hear from him. She went back and told Tibble that his
device was nought, an old scholar with one foot in the grave knew less
of women than even he did!

However it was only four days later, that, as Mrs Randall was hanging
out her collars to dry, there came up to her from the Temple stairs a
figure whom for a moment she hardly knew, so different was the long,
black garb, and short gown of the lawyer's clerk from the shabby old
green suit that all her endeavours had not been able to save from many a
stain of printer's ink. It was only as he exclaimed,