Susan was mending her father’s linen, when Rose tapped softly at the window, and beckoned to her to come out. She went out. “How does your mother do, in the first place?” said Rose. “Better, thank you.” “That’s well, and I have a little bit of good news for you besides—here,” said she, pulling out a glove, in which there was money, “we’ll get the guinea-hen back again—we have all agreed about it. This is the money that has been given to us in the village this May morning. At every door they gave silver. See how generous they have been—twelve shillings, I assure you. Now we are a match for Miss Barbara. You won’t like to leave home; I’ll go to Barbara, and you shall see your guinea-hen in ten minutes.” Rose hurried away, pleased with her commission, and to accomplish her business. Miss Barbara’s maid Betty was the first person that was visible at the attorney’s house. Rose insisted upon seeing Miss Barbara herself, and she was shown into a parlour to the young lady, who was reading a dirty novel, which she put under a heap of law papers as they entered. “Dear, how you _startled_ me! Is it only you?” said she to her maid; but as soon as she saw Rose behind the maid, she put on a scornful air. “Could not ye say I was not at home, Betty? Well, my good girl, what brings you here? Something to borrow or beg, I suppose.” May every ambassador—every ambassador in as good a cause—answer with as much dignity and moderation as Rose replied to Barbara upon the present occasion. She assured her, that the person from whom she came did not send her either to beg or borrow; that she was able to pay the full value of that for which she came to ask; and, producing her well filled purse, “I believe that this is a very good shilling,” said she. “If you don’t like it, I will change it, and now you will be so good as to give me Susan’s guinea-hen. It is in her name I ask for it.” “No matter in whose name you ask for it,” replied Barbara, “you will not have it. Take up your shilling, if you please. I would have taken a shilling yesterday, if it had been paid at the time properly; but I told Susan, that if it was not paid then, I should keep the hen, and so I shall, I promise her. You may go back, and tell her so.” The attorney’s daughter had, whilst Rose opened her negotiation, measured the depth of her purse with a keen eye; and her penetration discovered that it contained at least ten shillings. With proper management she had some hopes that the guinea-hen might be made to bring in at least half the money. Rose, who was of a warm temper, not quite so fit a match as she had thought herself for the wily Barbara, incautiously exclaimed, “Whatever it costs us, we are determined to have Susan’s favourite hen; so, if one shilling won’t do, take two; and if two won’t do, why, take three.” The shillings sounded provoking upon the table, as she threw them down one after another, and Barbara coolly replied, “Three won’t do.”