A MOTHER OF QUEENS.
A ROMANCE OF HISTORY.
One day, I will not say how many years ago, a young woman stepped from a country waggon that had just arrived at the famous Chelsea inn, "the Goat and Compasses," a name formed by corrupting time out of the pious original, "God encompasseth us."
The young woman seemed about eighteen years of age and was neatly dressed, though in the plain rustic fashion of the times. She was well formed and good-looking, both form and looks giving indications of the ruddy health due to the bright sun and the fresh air of the country.
After stepping from the waggon, which the driver immediately led into the court-yard, the girl stood for a moment uncertain which way to go, when the mistress of the inn, who had come to the door, observed her hesitation, and asked her to enter and take a rest.
The young woman readily accepted the invitation, and soon after, by the kindness of the landlady, found herself by the fireside of a nicely sanded parlour, with a good meal before her—welcome indeed after her long and tedious journey.
"And so, my girl," said the landlady, after having heard the whole particulars of the young woman's situation and history, "so thou hast come all this way to seek service, and hast no friend but John Hodge, the waggoner? Truly, he is like to give thee but small help, wench, towards getting a place."
"Is service, then, difficult to be had?" asked the young woman, sadly.
"Ay, marry, good situations, at least, are somewhat hard to find. But have a good heart, child," said the landlady, and as she continued she looked round her with an air of pride and dignity; "thou see'st what I have come to, myself; and I left the country a young thing, just like thyself, with as little to look to. But 'tisn't every one, for certain, that must look for such a fortune, and, in any case, it must first be worked for. I showed myself a good servant before my poor old Jacob, heaven rest his soul, made me mistress of 'the Goat and Compasses.' So mind thee, girl——"
The landlady's speech might have continued indefinitely—for the good dame loved well to hear the sound of her own voice—but for the interruption occasioned by the entrance of a gentleman, whom the landlady rose and welcomed heartily.