"I saw he was well bearded," said Catherine; "but, for the rest, at my age I scan them not as when I was young and foolish. But he seemed right civil: doffed his bonnet to me as I had been a queen, and I did drop him my best reverence, for manners beget manners. But little I wist he had been her light o' love, and most likely the----Who bakes for this town?" The man, not being acquainted with her, opened his eyes at this transition, swift and smooth. "Well, dame, there be two; John Bush and Eric Donaldson, they both bide in this street." "Then, God be with you, good people" said she, and proceeded: but her sprightly foot came flat on the ground now, and no longer struck it with little jerks and cocking heel. She asked the bakers whether Peter Brandt had gone away in their debt. Bush said they were not customers. Donaldson said "not a stiver: his daughter had come round and paid him the very night they went. Didn't believe they owed a copper in the town." So Catherine got all the information of that kind she wanted with very little trouble. "Can you tell me what sort this Margaret was?" said she, as she turned to go. "Well, somewhat too reserved for my taste. I like a chatty customer--when I'm not too busy. But she bore a high character for being a good daughter." "'Tis no small praise. A well-looking lass I am told?" "Why, whence come you, wyfe?" "From Tergou." "Oh, ay. Well you shall judge: the lads clept her 'the beauty of Sevenbergen;' the lasses did scout it merrily, and terribly pulled her to pieces, and found so many faults no two could agree where the fault lay." "That is enough," said Catherine. "I see, the bakers are no fools in Sevenbergen, and the young women no shallower than in other burghs." She bought a manchet of bread, partly out of sympathy and justice (she kept a shop), partly to show her household how much better bread she gave them daily; and returned to Tergou dejected. Kate met her outside the town with beaming eyes. "Well, Kate lass; it is a happy thing I went; I am heart-broken. Gerard has been sore abused. The child is none of ourn, nor the mother from this hour." "Alas, mother, I fathom not your meaning." "Ask me no more, girl, but never mention her name to me again. That is all." Kate acquiesced with a humble sigh, and they went home together. They found a soldier seated tranquilly by their fire. The moment they entered the door, he rose, and saluted them civilly. They stood and looked at him, Kate with some little surprise, but Catherine with a great deal, and with rising indignation. CHAPTER XLVIII "WHAT makes you here?" was Catherine's greeting. "I came to seek after Margaret." "Well, we know no such person." "Say not so, dame; sure you know her by name, Margaret Brandt." "We have heard of her for that matter--to our cost." "Come, dame, prithee tell me at least where she bides." "I know not where she bides, and care not."