“’Tis but a four-leafed clover, madam,” Alice replied, pulling it.
Lady Clancarty took it and looked at it with a quizzical eye.
“There is a saying in Devonshire,” she said, “that if you find a four-leafed clover and an even-leafed ash on the same day you will surely see your love ere sundown.”
“I have none, my lady,” replied Alice demurely.
Lady Betty laughed with a delicious ripple of merriment.
“You have none, girl?” she said archly. “What a prompt confession! I grow suspicious, Alice, and see, there is the tell-tale blood creeping up to your hair. Fie, girl, fie! Where is thy true love, thine own love now?”
“Indeed, I know not, madam,” replied Alice meekly; “no one ever wooed me but the parson, and his mouth was so large that it frightened me; it did open his head like a lid.”
“Mercy on us, girl, ’twas an opening in life for you,” laughed Lady Betty; “and ’tis said that a large mouth is generous.”
“He was a great eater, madam,” replied the handmaid bluntly.
“Then were you surely meant for him, lass, for you are a famous maker of pastries, as I know. But tell me, Alice, did ever you have your fortune told?”