A Reputed Changeling | Page 8

"We shall be glad to be

away from Winchester, for while Peregrine Oakshott torments slyly,
Sedley Archfield loves to frighten us openly, and to hurt us to see how
much we can bear, and if Charley tries to stand up for us, Sedley calls
him a puny wench, and a milksop, and knocks him down. But, dear
madam, pray do not tell what I have said to her ladyship, for there is no
knowing what Sedley would do to us."
"My little maid has not known before what boys can be!"
"No; but indeed Charles Archfield is quite different, almost as if he had
been bred in London. He is a very gentleman. He never is rude to any
girl, and he is courteous and gentle and kind. He gathered walnuts for
us yesterday, and cracked all mine, and I am to make him a purse with
two of the shells."
Mrs. Woodford smiled, but there was a short thrill of anxiety in her
motherly heart as her glance brought up a deeper colour into Anne's
cheeks. There was a reserve to bring that glow, for the child knew that
if she durst say that Charles called her his little sweetheart and wife,
and that the walnut-shell purse would be kept as a token, she should be
laughed at as a silly child, perhaps forbidden to make it, or else her
uncle might hear and make a joke of it. It was not exactly
disingenuousness, but rather the first dawn of maidenly reserve and
modesty that reddened her cheek in a manner her mother did not fail to
observe.
Yet it was with more amusement than misgiving, for children played at
courtship like other games in mimicry of being grown up, and a
baronet's only son was in point of fact almost as much out of the reach
of a sea captain's daughter and clergyman's niece as a prince of the
blood royal; and Master Archfield would probably be contracted long
before he could choose for himself, for his family were not likely to
take into account that if Captain Woodford had not been too severely
wounded to come forward after the battle of Southwold Bay he would
have been knighted. On the strength of which Anne, as her companions
sometimes said, gave herself in consequence more airs than Mistress
Lucy ever did.

Sedley, a poor cousin, a destitute cavalier's orphan, who had been
placed on the foundation at Winchester College in hopes that he might
be provided for in the Church, would have been far more on her level,
and indeed Lady Archfield, a notable matchmaker, had already hinted
how suitable such a thing would be. However, the present school
character of Master Sedley, as well as her own observations, by no
means inclined Mrs. Woodford towards the boy, large limbed and
comely faced, but with a bullying, scowling air that did not augur well
for his wife or his parish.
Whether it were this lad's threats, or more likely, the fact that all the
Close was on the alert, Peregrine's exploits were less frequent there,
and began to extend to the outskirts of the city. There were some fine
yew trees on the southern borders, towards the chalk down, with
massive dark foliage upon stout ruddy branches, among which
Peregrine, armed with a fishing-rod, line, and hook, sat perched,
angling for what might be caught from unconscious passengers along a
path which led beneath.
From a market-woman's basket he abstracted thus a fowl! His "Ho! ho!
ho!" startled her into looking up, and seeing it apparently resuscitated,
and hovering aloft. Full of dismay, she hurried shrieking away to tell
the story of the bewitched chick at the market-cross among her gossips.
His next capture was a chop from a butcher boy's tray, but this involved
more peril, for with a fierce oath that he would be revenged on the
Whiggish imp, the lad darted at the tree, in vain, however, for Peregrine
had dropped down on the other side, and crept unseen to another bush,
where he lay perdu, under the thick green branches, rod and all, while
the youth, swearing and growling, was shaking his former refuge.
As soon as the coast was clear he went back to his post, and presently
was aware of three gentlemen advancing over the down, pointing,
measuring, and surveying. One was small and slight, as simply dressed
as a gentleman of the period could be; another was clad in a gay coat
with a good deal of fluttering ribbon and rich lace; the third, a tall
well-made man, had a plain walking suit, surmounted by a flowing
periwig and plumed beaver. Coming close beneath Peregrine's tree, and

standing with their backs to it, they eagerly conversed. "Such a cascade
will drown the honours of