"He's a man," said Aunt Tabitha, cutting short Christabel's laboured explanation; "and men never do see, child. They haven't a bit of gumption, and none so much wit. Ay, we've been; but we were late, and hadn't time to tarry. Well, she looks white belike, as folks alway do when they be shut up from the air; but she seems in good health, and in good cheer enough. She was sat of the corner, hard by a woman that hath, said she, been a good friend unto her, and a right comfort, and who, said she, must needs have a share in all her good things." "Oh, I'm glad she has a friend in that dreadful place! What's her name, Aunt, an' it like you?" "Didn't say." "But I would like to pray for her," said Christie with a disappointed look; "and I can't say, `Bless that woman.'" "Why not?" said Aunt Tabitha bluntly. "Art 'feared the Lord shall be perplexed to know which woman thou meanest, and go and bless the wrong one?" "Why, no! He'll know, of course. And, please, has Aunt Alice a cushion for her back?" Tabitha laughed curtly. "Cushions grow not in prisons, child. Nay, she's never a cushion." "Oh, I'm sorry!" said Christie mournfully. "And I've got three! I wish I could give her one of mine." "Well, I scarce reckon she'd have leave to keep it, child. Howbeit, thou canst pray thy father to make inquiration." "Oh ay! I'll pray Father to ask. Thank you, Aunt Tabitha. Was Aunt Alice very, very pleased to see you?" "Didn't ask her. She said some'at none so far off it. Dear heart! but what ado is here?" And Tabitha rose to examine the details of the "ado." Two fine horses stood before the gate, each laden with saddle and pillion, the former holding a serving-man, and the latter a lady. From a third horse the rider, also a man-servant in livery, had alighted, and he was now coming to help the ladies down. They were handsomely dressed, in a style which showed them to be people of some consequence: for in those days the texture of a woman's hood, the number of her pearls, and the breadth of her lace and fur were carefully regulated by sumptuary laws, and woe betide the esquire's daughter, or the knight's wife, who presumed to poach on the widths reserved for a Baroness! "Bless us! whoever be these?" inquired Tabitha of nobody in particular. "I know never a one of their faces. Have they dropped from the clouds?" "Perhaps it's a mistake," suggested Christie. "Verily, so I think," rejoined her aunt. "I'd best have gone myself to them--I'm feared Nell shall scarce--" But Nell opened the door with the astonishing announcement of--"Mistress Grena Holland, and Mistress Pandora Roberts, to visit the little mistress."