"Yes; who be it?" she said, and, tottering to the door, she opened the latch with trembling hand to as it were admit a ray of light to her breast, for the visitor brought hope. It was Janet. "Well, child," she said, "and why have you come?" "Don't ask me yet, mother," whispered the girl, hurrying in, and helping to close the door. "If Mas' Cobbe knew I be come here he would half kill me." "Of course, of course, child! It be very wrong to come and visit poor Mother Goodhugh. Aren't you afraid I should curse you, child?" "Oh no, mother!" cried the girl, who, now that she was inside, recovered herself. "I want you to bless me." "Ah, child, and how?" "Oh, mother," giggled the girl, "you know. How do young women want to be blest?" "With a husband, eh, dearie?" said the old woman with a cunning leer, as she scanned Janet's pretty, weak face, and thought about how her good fortune had played into her hands by sending her a tool with which, if she were skilful, she could work her ends. "But thou should'st not make me say it out loud, mother," said Janet, with another giggle; "but, when there be so much courting and love-making up at home, how can a girl help thinking about such things?" "Ay, truly, dear, how indeed! But why should not so bonnie a maiden win a husband, I should like to know." "What, as Mistress Mace?" said Janet, pouting. "Nay, as Mistress Janet," said the old woman, chuckling. "Well, well, and who is it to be, and what can I tell thee?" "I want--I want to know--" "Ay, ay, speak out, dearie." "I want to know," faltered Janet, glancing at the door of the inner room and then at that of the entrance, "I want to know--Oh, I daren't ask it," she said, turning red and pale by turns. "Thou would'st know the name of thy husband." "Ay, how could you tell that?" cried the simple girl. "Such things be as plain to me as if they were written in a book. Sit down there," she cried, pointing to a stool in the middle of the room. Janet hesitated, but the old woman took up her crutch-handled stick and struck the floor imperiously, with the result that the girl took the seat, and Mother Goodhugh drew a rough circle round her as she stood behind the stool. "I want to go back now; I must go back now," said the girl, with trembling voice. "Thou canst not go now until the spell is off," whispered Mother Goodhugh, as she thrust her hand into a capacious pocket and took out a ball of glass, lined inside with some white metal, which gave it the appearance of a convex mirror. "Shall I see anything very dreadful, and will it pook me?" faltered the girl. "I hope not, but I cannot promise," said Mother Goodhugh. "Sit quite still, and if anything dreadful comes I will answer for it that thou be not hurt much." Janet's heart throbbed as she saw the old woman come before her and go down upon her knees, her face convulsed, and lips moving rapidly; then, holding the glass in both hands, her brow puckered as she gazed straight into it.