The Kings Daughters | Page 3

their heads that all
women be talkers, and be as still as you will, they shall write you down
a chatterbox. Well, now, can't I tempt you with nought more? Stockings,
or kerchiefs, or a knitted cap? Well, then, good den. I don't so well like
the look of them clouds yonder; we shall have rain afore night, take my
word for it. Farewell!"
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Mulberry-colour, much like that we call plum-colour or prune.
Note 2. They say, "I want to have you go," when we should say, "I
want you, to go." Queen Elizabeth would have used the former
expression.
CHAPTER TWO.
WHO TOOK CARE OF CISSY?
The clothier's shop which we entered in the last chapter was in Balcon
or Balkerne Lane, not far from its northern end. The house was built, as
most houses then were, with the upper storey projecting beyond the
lower, and with a good deal of window in proportion to the wall. The
panes of glass were very small, set in lead, and of a greenish hue; and
the top of the house presented two rather steeply sloped gables. Houses
in that day were more picturesque than they have been for the last two
hundred years, though they have shown a tendency in recent times to
turn again in that direction. Over Master Clere's door--and over every
door in the street--hung a signboard, on which some sign was painted,
each different from the rest, for signs then served the purpose of
numbers, so that two alike in the same street would have caused
confusion. As far as eye could see ran the gaily-painted boards--Blue
Lion, varied by red, black, white, and golden lions; White Hart, King's
Head, Golden Hand, Vine, Wheelbarrow, Star, Cardinal's Hat,
Crosskeys, Rose, Magpie, Saracen's Head, and Katherine Wheel.
Master Nicholas Clere hung out a magpie: why, he best knew, and
never told. His neighbours sarcastically said that it was because a
magpie lived there, meaning Mistress Clere, who was considered a
chatterbox by everybody except herself.
Our two friends, Margaret Thurston and Alice Mount, left the shop
together, with their baskets on their arms, and turning down a narrow
lane to the left, came out into High Street, down which they went, then
along Wye Street, and out at Bothal's Gate. They did not live in
Colchester, but at Much Bentley, about eight miles from the town, in a
south-easterly direction.

"I marvel," said Margaret, as the two pursued their way across the
heath, "how Bessy Foulkes shall make way with them twain."
"Do you so?" answered Alice. "Truly, I marvel more how she shall
make way with the third."
"What, Mistress Amy?"
Alice nodded.
"But why? There's no harm in her, trow?"
"She means no harm," said Alice. "But there's many an one, Meg, as
doesn't mean a bit of harm, and does a deal for all that. I'm feared for
Bessy."
"But I can't see what you're feared for."
"These be times for fear," said Alice Mount. "Neighbour, have you
forgot last August?"
"Eh! no, trust me!" cried Margaret. "Didn't I quake for fear, when my
master came in, and told me you were taken afore the justices! Truly, I
reckoned he and I should come the next. I thank the good Lord that
stayed their hands!"
"'Tis well we be on the Heath," said Alice, glancing round, as if to see
whether they could be overheard. "If we spake thus in the streets of
Colchester, neighbour, it should cost us dear."
"Well, I do hate to be so careful!"
"Folks cannot have alway what they would," said Alice, "But you know,
neighbour, Bessy Foulkes is one of us."
"Well, what then? So's Master Clere."
Alice made no answer.

"What mean you, Alice Mount? Master Clere's a Gospeller, and has
been this eight years or more."
"I did not gainsay it, Meg."
"Nay, you might not gainsay it, but you looked as if you would if you
opened your mouth."
"Well, neighbour, my brother at Stoke Nayland sells a horse by nows
and thens: and the last time I was yonder, a gentleman came to buy one.
There was a right pretty black one, and a bay not quite so well-looking.
Says the gentleman to Gregory, `I'd fainer have the black, so far as
looks go; but which is the better horse?' Quoth Gregory, `Well, Master,
that hangs on what you mean to do with him. If you look for him to
make a pretty picture in your park, and now and then to carry you four
or five mile, why, he'll do it as well as e'er a one; but if you want him
for good, stiff work, you'd best have the bay. The black's got no stay in
him,' saith he. So, Meg, that's what I think of