"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—"
The maltster in better humour.
"'Tis Madam Lee is the goose to be spoiling thee so," smiled Rumbold good-humouredly. "She always is promising thee some fine thing or another. Well, well, go thy ways then, Ruth, for the green gooseberries, and a pleasant walk, and if by hap thou shouldst chance across Lawrence Lee,—and 'tis possible that, eh?"
"Yes, father."
A proposed message.
"Tell him to—but yet,—no. Tell him naught; 'twill keep. I shall be seeing him shortly." And then Rumbold turned in at a door of the corn chambers.