Page:Cerise, a tale of the last century (IA cerisetaleoflast00whytrich).pdf/461

 *room. Janet, like most elder girls in a large family, was as steady as a matron, taking charge of the rest with the care of an aunt, and the authority of a governess. But the mother's sight was sharper than her children's. "Bessie Round's not half the height of that girl," said she, rising for a better look. "See how she skims across the stepping-stones at the ford! She's in a hurry, whoever she is! But that is no reason, Margery, why you shouldn't learn your spelling, nor that I should have to unpick the last half-dozen stitches in Marian's sampler. Hush! my dears, I pray you! Less noise, or you will wake father."

Pending this discussion, Alice, whose pace was at least twice as good as Bessie Round's, had reached the house. She looked very pretty, all flushed and tumbled out of the moorland breezes, and Dame Umpleby's heart reproached her for the hundredth time that she had allowed her husband to establish as a rule the administration of justice in his own room, unhampered by her presence. He had once in their early married life admitted her assistance to his judicial labours, but such confusion resulted from this indulgence that the experiment was never repeated.

Though Sir Marmaduke had been married a score of years, and was the model of a steady-going, middle-aged gentleman, such is the self-tormenting tendency of the female mind that his wife could not mark without certain painful twinges, the good looks of this visitor waiting at the hall-door, lest her errand should prove as usual—"A young woman, if you please, wants to see Sir Marmaduke on justice business!"

Such twinges are generally prophetic. Long before Margery and Marian had settled a disputed point as to the identity of the wolf and little Red Riding Hood's grand-*mother in the story-book, a plethoric serving-man, who had obviously been employing his leisure in the kitchen, like his master in the parlour, entered with a red shining face, and announced Alice's arrival in the very words his mistress knew so well.

Sir Marmaduke woke up with a start, rubbed his eyes, his nose, the whole of his bald head, and replied as usual—

"Directly, Jacob, directly. Offer the young woman a horn of small ale, and show her into the justice-room."