“I have something on board that will delight your eyes. A fair gentlewoman, Mistress Forrest, and her maid, Anne Burras.”
With courtesies and smiles, the lady and her maid came forward to acknowledge the greeting of the voyagers.
“Beside such a pleasant sight, madam, the whole of His Majesty’s dominions in this land pale into insignificance,” said Captain Smith, sweeping his soft hat almost to the bottom of the boat as he stood to greet her.
Then gaily proceeding up the stream, the barge leading, they came to anchor at Jamestown.
Where were all the settlers who should have been upon the beach to greet them? Hardly a dozen could be seen strolling around idly or lolling under the trees.
“Where are all the men?” was Smith’s first greeting.
“They are at work in the woods, building a palace fit for the habitation of the President of this magnificent settlement,” ironically answered Percy.
Meantime, Wingfield had caught sight of Mrs. Forrest and her maid. “Shade of Henry VIII., I do believe it is the wilful Anne!” Hastening forward, his plumed hat swept the ground as he bent to Mrs. Forrest. Not quite so low was its sweep to Anne, but there was enough gallantry in his action, and admiration in his eye, to set the foolish little maid’s heart to fluttering. Not only in our day do maidens dream of being elevated to rank above the station in which they are born.
“Anne,” said Mrs. Forrest sharply, noting the confusion of her maid, and having no mind to encourage this unequal flirtation, “look to the bales in which my gowns are packed, and have a care for the packet containing my ruffs.”
With a slight toss of her curly chestnut head, Anne obeyed the bidding of her mistress.