Audrey

"What with the theatre, and the bowling green, and tea in your

summer-house, and dancing lessons, and the sale of these fine things, you

and Charles must turn a pretty penny! The luck that some folk have! You

were always fortunate, Mary."

Mistress Stagg did not deny the imputation. But she was a kindly soul,

who had not forgotten the gift of my Lady Squander's pink alamode. The

chocolate stain had not been so very large.

"I've laid by a pretty piece of sarcenet of which to make you a capuchin,"

she said promptly. "Now, here's the wine. Shan't we go into the garden,

and sip it there? Peggy," to the black girl holding a salver, "put the

cake and wine on the table in the arbor; then sit here by the window, and

call me if any come. My dear Deborah, I doubt if I have so much as a

ribbon left by the end of the week. The town is that gay! I says to

Mirabell this morning, says I, 'Lord, my dear, it a'most puts me in mind

of Bath!' And Mirabell says--But here's the garden door. Now, isn't it

cool and pleasant out here? Audrey may gather us some grapes. Yes, they're

very fine, full bunches; it has been a bounteous year."

The grape arbor hugged the house, but beyond it was a pretty, shady,

fancifully laid out garden, with shell-bordered walks, a grotto, a

summer-house, and a gate opening into Nicholson Street. Beyond the garden

a glimpse was to be caught through the trees of a trim bowling green. It

had rained the night before, and a delightful, almost vernal freshness

breathed in the air. The bees made a great buzzing amongst the grapes, and

the birds in the mulberry-trees sang as though it were nesting time.

Mistress Stagg and her old acquaintance sat at a table placed in the

shadow of the vines, and sipped their wine, while Audrey obediently

gathered clusters of the purple fruit, and thought the garden very fine,

but oh, not like--There could be no garden in the world so beautiful and

so dear as that! And she had not seen it for so long, so long a time. She

wondered if she would ever see it again.

When she brought the fruit to the table, Mistress Stagg made room for her

kindly enough; and she sat and drank her wine and went to her world of

dreams, while her companions bartered town and country gossip. It has been

said that the small white house adjoined a larger building. A window in

this structure, which had much the appearance of a barn, was now opened,

with the result that a confused sound, as of several people speaking at

once, made itself heard. Suddenly the noise gave place to a single

high-pitched voice:-"'Welcome, my son! Here lay him down, my friends,

Full in my sight, that I may view at leisure

The bloody corse, and count those glorious wounds.'"