In answer the other lad jeered: "Knave of a Roundhead!"
Then the spectators took sides and urged them on to fight.
"What be they, Cavaliers and Roundheads that they prate of, good Mawkin?" asked Merrylips.
Mawkin, who was gaping at the fight, said tartly that she knew not.
But the serving-man, Stephen Plasket, said: "'Tis thus, little mistress: all gentlefolk who are for our gracious king are called by the name of Cavaliers, while the vile knaves who would resist him are Roundheads."
"Then I am a Cavalier," said Merrylips.
At that moment Mawkin cried: "Lawk! he hath it fairly!"
There was the young page tumbled into the mud, with his nose a-bleeding!
"O me!" lamented Merrylips. "If Munn were but here, he would 'a' learned that prentice boy a lesson, not to mock at us Cavaliers. I would that my brother Munn stood here!"
Not till she had spoken the words did Merrylips realize how from her heart she wished that Munn were there. She wanted him, not only to beat the rude prentice boy, but to cheer her with the sight of his face. For the first time she realized that she longed to see Munn, or even prim Pug, or any of the dear folk that she had left at Walsover.