Let us hope that as it is supposed in the story, the lonely, broken heart turned to a truer love than that of her cherished and cruel son-- even to His who says "My mother" of all aged women who seek to do the will of God, and who will never forsake them that trust in Him. CHAPTER ONE. AT THE PATTY-MAKER'S SHOP. "Man wishes to be loved--expects to be so: And yet how few live so as to be loved!" Rev Horatius Bonar, D.D. It was a warm afternoon in the beginning of July--warm everywhere; and particularly so in the house of Master Robert Altham, the patty-maker, who lived at the corner of Saint Martin's Lane, where it runs down into the Strand. Shall we look along the Strand? for the time is 1372, five hundred years ago, and the Strand was then a very different place from the street as we know it now. In the first place, Trafalgar Square had no being. Below where it was to be in the far future, stood Charing Cross--the real Eleanor Cross of Charing, a fine Gothic structure--and four streets converged upon it. That to the north-west parted almost directly into the Hay Market and Hedge Lane, genuine country roads, in which both the hay and the hedge had a real existence. Southwards ran King Street down to Westminster; and northwards stood the large building of the King's Mews, where his Majesty's hawks were kept. Two hundred years later, bluff King Hal would turn out the hawks to make room for his horses; but as yet the word mews had its proper signification of a place where hawks were mewed or confined. At the corner of the Mews, between it and the patty-maker's, ran up Saint Martin's Lane; its western boundary being the long blank wall of the Mews, and its eastern a few houses, and then Saint Martin's Church. Along the Strand, eastwards, were stately private houses on the right hand, and shops upon the left. Just below the cross, further to the south, was Scotland Yard, the site of the ancient Palace of King David of Scotland, and still bearing traces of its former grandeur; then came the Priory of Saint Mary Rouncival, the town houses of six Bishops, the superb mansion of the Earl of Arundel, and the house of the Bishops of Exeter, interspersed with smaller dwellings here and there. A long row of these stretched between Durham Place and Worcester Place, behind which, with its face to the river, stood the magnificent Palace of the Savoy, the city habitation of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, eldest surviving son of the reigning King. The Strand was far narrower than now, and the two churches, instead of being in the middle, broke the monotony of the rows of houses on the north side. Let us look more especially at the long row which ran unbroken from the corner of Saint Martin's Lane to the first church, that of "our Lady and the holy Innocents atte Stronde."