Only the clock, however, striking seven roused her from her abstraction. So late! and approaching the window she opened its panes and let in the pure morning air. Then she proceeded to make a fresh toilette. With a little sigh yesterday's gay tiffany was laid aside, poor, crumpled, bedraggled stuff that it all looked now, and she put on a gown of gray camlet, from beneath whose skirts, just reaching to her ankles, peeped forth a pair of little feet, in a pair of stout plain black leathern tagged shoes; just the very things for rough country roads and boggy lanes. The neat-fitting bodice was finished by a kerchief of spotless lawn gathered close about her neck, and though fashionable ladies would no doubt have vowed it an odiously grand-mothery sort of thing, it was none so unbecoming. Indeed as Ruth proceeded to fasten that black silk caped hood beneath her little round chin, it was quite a matter of nice taste, whether Queen Ruth, rosy as her regal robes and crown, and bright as her gay dancing glances could make her, or this demure, pale little Ruth, clad in sober gray, and with great wistful eyes, somewhat heavily shadowed, indeed, with purple lines, were the prettier. [Sidenote: A morning visit.] Small doubt of Master Rumbold's opinion on the matter did there seem to be, when ready equipped, even to a large basket upon her arm, she stood before him with the black jack of ale, that always made his breakfast. "Now thou look'st thyself, Ruth," he said, his brooding brow lightening as he gazed at her. "Why dost thou sigh, child?" he went on, taking the jack and putting it to his lips. "Did I sigh, father?" and all unconsciously poor Ruth sighed again, for never in her life had it seemed to her that she had felt less herself. "Ay, didst thou. Well, well. Thou'rt thy father's own daughter now: kiss me then," he went on, setting down the empty jack and wiping his lips. "And where art thou bound for so early?" he added. "Nether Hall, father." "Nether Hall! why, 'tis but a round o' the clock that thou wert there," he said, opening his one eye more in surprise than displeasure. "Madam Lee," began Ruth rather hesitatingly, and blushing, though she scarcely knew why, for it was but pure and simple truth she was speaking, "Madam Lee promised me a sitting of the white bantam hen's eggs yesterday, if--if," and she glanced down at her basket, "I liked to go and fetch them." "And are the white bantam's eggs as big as the giant bird's in the fairy tale, that you must be taking a basket for them half as big as yourself?" "Nay, father. But Madam Lee promised me also some choice green goose--goose--" [Sidenote: The maltster in better humour.]