"Look ye there now."
"But a deal whiter nor yourn and mine."
"Ay, ay."
"And main skinny."
"Alas."
"What could ye expect? Why a live upon air, and prayer: and candles."
"Ah, well," continued Joan, "poor thing, I whiles think 'tis best for her to know the worst. And now she hath gotten a voice from heaven, or almost as good: and behoves her pray for his soul. One thing she is not so poor now as she was; and never fell riches to a better hand; and she is only come into her own for that matter: so she can pay the priest to say masses for him, and that is a great comfort."
In the midst of their gossip Margaret, in whose ears it was all buzzing, though she seemed lost in thought, got softly up; and crept away with her eyes on the ground, and her brows bent.
"She hath forgotten I am with her," said Reicht Heynes, ruefully.
She had her gossip out with Joan, and then went home.