Page:Magdalen by J S Machar.pdf/110

 ducks, a flock of sparrows, and a few pigeons that were flying about a round dove-cot. In the sultry air was the odor of the stable and the aroma of hay, The burgomistress strutted by the steward’s dwelling to the one-story building in the back of the yard. A woman came out of it and, seeing her, wiped her hands on her apron, and ran up to her to kiss her hand.

“The Lord protect you, never mind, never mind!” and the burgomistress graciously extended her hand. “Is the counciloress at home?”

“Yes, if you please, gracious lady” (“counciloress” was the title of Jiří’s aunt).

“Mr. Jiří”

“He is at home, too, gracious lady. He is busy with the steward, writing some accounts. The master wants to take the estate into his own hands. He wants to remain here. They are figuring up.”

“And that young lady? Who is she?”

“I do not know, gracious lady. One