Dost compare their limited field, ploddingly and privately pursued, with the sciences and languages which a young lady rushes over in the nineteenth century? Bethink thyself, according to the same reasoning, the great Sir Isaac would be placed beneath some schoolboy with excellent 'People's Informations' and Family Instructors' at his finger-ends, and that would be one way of turning the world upside down.'

The afternoon sun is slanting with a golden light into the old hall-tipping deer-horns and rusty habergeons-falling on Master Yorke at his studiesand Goodman Gil returning in silence from the outfields, bending under his burden of trusses of straw, billets of wood, a string of birds, or a haunch of venison, such trifles as a family requires in the daily wear and tear of existence-or Goodwife Grizel drawing ale, turning the shoulder of mutton, tossing the buttered eggs, immersed in the mysteries having respect unto the approaching supper-or Nan leaning idly over the railing of the gallery, with her lute between her fingers, and her blithe eyes looking out for amusement-on Cicely, still sitting on her stool at the head of the opposite stair, soberly completing the round of those excellently contrived hose, but stopping suddenly when her ball breaks from her, and starts on a vagrant course, leaping from step to step, to fling up her hands and laugh at some conceit of her own. Look here, Nan, is it not like mad Ralph Neville, when he escaped

from his argument with good Master Dyer, to bounce about his services, his travels, his forbears, jumping from one to another, in much such a roving, reckless fashion. Marry, the ball has the best of it, for it rests at the bottom of the stairs. Come now, sister Nan, Grizel is ready to lay the cloth, if we be set to help her-the mutton is at its richest brown, the eggs at their golden flakiness, and the le, in its bells and creamy froth to quench my father's thirst.'

'To clear his throat from the gold-dust that is in it; dost see, Cicely, he is examining his crucible, brought in from his outer den, for the remains of the black stone shipped home by the sea captains. We'll be making our fortunes soon, and powdering our sooty hair with the shining particles, as the good man says the Roman ladies did—a dangerous lesson, but I dare to say they had somebody to busk for,' alleges Nan, half skipping, half swimming down stairs, and tossing her crow's head in a very unoppressed and unmiserly fashion.

These girls always rise up before the mind's eye in connexion with their old oak stairs and gallery. They were their peculiar property-their withdrawing-room they named them-and at morning, noon, or night, it was hard to peep in without discovering one or other leaning over their wide wooden balcony, where each rib of their screen was heavily fluted and finished with a capital of leaves. Now it was Nan from her watch-tower giving supernumerary

directions to Grizel about the heating of the oven, or the clotting of the cream, scolding in her childish zeal, and being scolded again with the mixture of respect and authority with which a true nurse ever regards her brood; or eagerly waving her kerchief, or else frowardly turning her straight young back, as a sign to gay Dick Yorke when he chose to make a welcome sally from his attendance on his master at some of the royal progresses on his clodhopping kin or anon it might be Cicely industriously casting up accounts with a bit of chalk on a board hung on the wall, feeding her pigeons, pensively watching the lustrous moon as it sailed slowly by the open door, or singing gleefully the old song, 'But have you brought gold in store, sir?' nodding her head with the little peaked cap which she would wear, and beating her foot with its great rose-knot in perfect accompaniment.

Now the family are placing themselves at supper at the same board-the squire and the damsels above, the goodman and his goodwife below the salt-with the punctiliousness which these poor folks of high degree instinctively preserved, and which their domestics never dreamt of invading; and after the master's grace-never bating a hair's-breadth of its manful holiness for all his crazed arcana-to the meal, with what appetite their early hours, simple habits, and quiet consciences afford.

CHAPTER IV.

DICK THE COURTIER.

AN stood at noon in the stone porch scattering grain to the fat cocks, the turkey poults, and young pheasants, while around her gathered

the cows coming in to the mid-day milking, the calves lowing and butting, the rough black pony accustomed to be petted with bits of bread and apples, and even the higher-bred mare neighing and switching her tail after notice, while the deep-mouthed mastiff stretched his chain, yawned, and slobbered over the nearer approach of his mistress.

Mistress Nan looked her best. She was in the early noon of life, and the sun did not beat on her head hotly, pitilessly, and harassingly: it but flooded the strong, joyous girl with light, warmth, and brilliance. Nan stood with one foot advanced, her riding-dress (so termed by courtesy) drawn over the same arm which poised tantalizingly the basket of seed nigh as high as her head-scattering the grain with the other taper, sun-burnt hand. Her

L

dress was of purple cloth, laced in front with amber, made with large puffs at the shoulders-a fashion which rendered the rounded waist and arm slender in their buxom youth; her lace cuffs ran high almost to the elbow, and about her throat was a full cambric ruff-its snowy whiteness and crisp precision relieving the brown tint of the skin, and on the raven locks gathered back to an elaborate cluster of curls on the top of the head, rested a little miniver cap. Rich was the tint of the young beauty's cheek, and harmonious the hue of the marked, well-formed nose and chin left thus exposed to the summer wind and the broad sunshine.

At a little distance a murmur of conversation issued from the lattice window, and tracing it to its source the stranger might come on Master Richard Yorke, seated for his few moments of repose before dinner, and resting on the high back of his chair, his other fair daughter, Cicely, similar in dress to her sister, save that her hair was covered by a caul of silk thread confined at one side by triple white roses, and her skirt was linked light and short, and she wore a fine white linen apron with a bib of the same, in place of a stomacher, and at her girdle the household keys, curiously inlaid and embossed, as Master Yorke brought them from Italy-and as she spoke she stooped down and played with the great seal at the squire's gold chain, as if she loved all that related to him.

Nan's court was a rough one, but she did not re