The King's Daughters

  CHAPTER TWO.

  WHO TOOK CARE OF CISSY?

  The clothier's shop which we entered in the last chapter was in Balconor Balkerne Lane, not far from its northern end. The house was built,as most houses then were, with the upper storey projecting beyond thelower, and with a good deal of window in proportion to the wall. Thepanes of glass were very small, set in lead, and of a greenish hue; andthe top of the house presented two rather steeply sloped gables. Housesin that day were more picturesque than they have been for the last twohundred years, though they have shown a tendency in recent times to turnagain in that direction. Over Master Clere's door--and over every doorin the street--hung a signboard, on which some sign was painted, eachdifferent from the rest, for signs then served the purpose of numbers,so that two alike in the same street would have caused confusion. Asfar as eye could see ran the gaily-painted boards--Blue Lion, varied byred, black, white, and golden lions; White Hart, King's Head, GoldenHand, Vine, Wheelbarrow, Star, Cardinal's Hat, Crosskeys, Rose, Magpie,Saracen's Head, and Katherine Wheel. Master Nicholas Clere hung out amagpie: why, he best knew, and never told. His neighbours sarcasticallysaid 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 shoptogether, with their baskets on their arms, and turning down a narrowlane to the left, came out into High Street, down which they went, thenalong Wye Street, and out at Bothal's Gate. They did not live inColchester, but at Much Bentley, about eight miles from the town, in asouth-easterly direction.

  "I marvel," said Margaret, as the two pursued their way across theheath, "how Bessy Foulkes shall make way with them twain."

  "Do you so?" answered Alice. "Truly, I marvel more how she shall makeway 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, asdoesn't mean a bit of harm, and does a deal for all that. I'm fearedfor Bessy."

  "But I can't see what you're feared for."

  "These be times for fear," said Alice Mount. "Neighbour, have youforgot last August?"

  "Eh! no, trust me!" cried Margaret. "Didn't I quake for fear, when mymaster came in, and told me you were taken afore the justices! Truly, Ireckoned he and I should come the next. I thank the good Lord thatstayed their hands!"

  "'Tis well we be on the Heath," said Alice, glancing round, as if to seewhether they could be overheard. "If we spake thus in the streets ofColchester, 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 beenthis eight years or more."

  "I did not gainsay it, Meg."

  "Nay, you might not gainsay it, but you looked as if you would if youopened your mouth."

  "Well, neighbour, my brother at Stoke Nayland sells a horse by nows andthens: 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 aslooks 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 makea pretty picture in your park, and now and then to carry you four orfive mile, why, he'll do it as well as e'er a one; but if you want himfor good, stiff work, you'd best have the bay. The black's got no stayin him,' saith he. So, Meg, that's what I think of Master Clere--he'sgot no stay in him. I doubt he's but one of your fair-weathered folks,that'll side with Truth when she steps bravely forth in her satin gownand her velvet slippers; but when she comes in a threadbare gown and oldclouted shoes, then she's not for their company. There's a many of thatsort."

  "And you think Master Clere's one?" said Margaret, in a tone whichsounded as if she did not think so.

  "I'm feared he is. I'd not say it if there wasn't need. But if you seeBess afore I do--and you are more like, for you go into town oftener--dodrop a word to her to be prudent."

  "Tell Elizabeth Foulkes to be prudent!" exclaimed Margaret, laughing."Nay, that were carrying coals to Newcastle!"

  "Well, and the day may come for that, if the pits there be used up.Meg, have you ne'er noted that folks oftener come to trouble for want oftheir chief virtue than from overdoing it?"

  "Nay, Alice, nor I don't think it, neither."

  "Well, let be!" said Alice, shifting the basket to her other arm. "Themthat lives 'll see it."

  "But what mean you touching Mistress Amy! You said you were fearedshe'd make trouble for Bess."

  "Ay, I am: but that's another matter. We've fault-found enough for oneeven. Who be them two afore us?"

  "What, those bits of children? Why, they're two of Jack Johnson's, ofThorpe."

  "They look as if they'd got too much to carry," said Alice, as they cameup to the children. They were now about half way to Bentley.

  The younger, a boy of about six, held one ear of a large jar full ofmeal, and the other was carried by his sister, whose apparent age waseight. They were plodding slowly along, as if afraid of spilling theirmeal, for the jar was pretty full.

  "Well, Cis, thou hast there a load!" was Margaret's greeting.

  The little girl turned her head to see who spoke, but she only saidgravely, "Ay." A very grave, demure little maiden she seemed to be.

  "Whither go you?" asked Alice Mount.

  "We're going home," said the small boy.

  "What, a matter of five miles, with that jar? Why, you'll drop in theroad! Couldn't nobody have fetched it but you?"

  "There wasn't nobody," said the little boy; and his sister looked up tosay, in her grave way,--

  "You know Mother's gone to Heaven."

  "And who looks after you?"

  "Will looks after Baby," answered Cissy demurely, "and I look afterWill."

  "And who looks after thee?" asked Alice much amused.

  "I'm older than I look," replied Cissy, drawing herself up; but she wasnot big enough to go far.

  "I'm nine--going in ten. I can make porridge, and clean the room andwash Baby. And Will's learning to wash himself, and then he'll be offmy hands."

  It was irresistibly funny to hear this small mite talk like a woman, forshe was very small of her age; and Alice and Margaret could not helplaughing.

  "Well, but thou knowest thou canst not do a many things that must bedone. Who takes care of you all? I dare be bound thou does thy best:but somebody there must be older than thee. Who is it now?"

  "Have you e'er an aunt or a grandmother?" added Margaret.

  Cissy looked up quietly into Alice's face.

  "God takes care of us," she said. "Father helps when his work's done;but when he's at work, God has to do it all. There's nobody but God."

  Alice and Margaret looked at each other in astonishment.

  "Poor little souls!" cried Margaret.

  "Oh, but we aren't!" said Cissy, rather more eagerly. "God looks afterus, you know. He's sure to do it right, Father says so."

  Alice Mount laid her hand softly on Cissy's head.

  "Ay, little maid, God will do it right," she said. "But maybe He'd letme help too, by nows and thens. Thou knowest the Black Bear at MuchBentley--corner of lane going down to Thorpe?"

  Yes, Cissy knew the Black Bear, as her face showed.

  "Well, when thou gets to the Black Bear, count three doors down thelane, and thou'lt see a sign with a bell. That's where I live. Theerap at the door, and my daughter shall go along with you to Thorpe, andhelp to carry the meal too. Maybe we can find you a sup of broth ormilk while you rest you a bit."

  "Oh, thank you!" said Cissy in her grown-up way. "
That will be good.We'll come."