"Eh!" cried the daughter-in-law in amaze. "She's only scarred after
all."
"Well, what else should she be, bless her poor heart?" said Mrs. Hall
the elder.
"Why, wasn't it thou thyself, good mother, that brought home word
that they had the pig-faced lady at Wilton there?"
"Bless thee, Agnes, thou should'st know better than to lend an ear to
all the idle tales thy poor old mother may hear at market or fair."
"Then should we have enough to do," muttered her husband.
"And as thou seest, 'tis a sweet little face, only cruelly marred by
the evil hap."
Poor Grisell was crimson at finding all eyes on her, an ordeal she
had never undergone in the convent, and she hastily pulled forward
her veil.
"Nay now, my sweet young lady, take not the idle words in ill part,"
pleaded the good hostess. "We all know how to love thee, and what is
a smooth skin to a true heart? Take a bit more of the pasty,
ladybird; we'll have far to ride ere we get to Wherwell, where the
good sisters will give us a meal for young St. Edward's sake and thy
Prioress's. Aye--I turn out of my way for that; I never yet paid my
devotion to poor young King Edward, and he might take it in dudgeon,
being a king, and his shrine so near at hand."
"Ha, ha!" laughed the smith; "trust my dame for being on the right
side of the account with the Saints. Well for me and Jack that we
have little Agnes here to mind the things on earth meanwhile.
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