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"And do you expect things to be managed as well in this house with five of us at home, besides father and Miss Briggs, and three servants to do all the work, as it is at Miss Carr's, with no one but herself, and six or seven people to wait upon her?" Lettice spoke quietly, but with a flush on her cheeks which proved that she felt more than she showed.

There was the viscount's brother, other relations, lawyers, ladies, servants, not one of them was her friend; and not one who wouldn't rather have seen her arrive there in evil relationship with him than as she did come. But she stood her ground.

Twelfth Day Eve was a great occasion among the rustics of England, and many curious customs are connected with it. In Herefordshire the farmers and servants used to meet together in the evening and walk to a field of wheat.

But she had not gone a bow-shot from the house before one of the king's servants who had watched the house from dawn, stopped her with the question "Do you seek the king?" "Yes," said she. "Good; then allow me to be your good friend," said the subtle courtier. "I ask your aid and protection, as now I give you mine."

Or on the way of an affianced pair to church the same outrage might take place, the bridegroom being often killed. This, too, was forbidden under penalty of outlawry, the new law being that of Peace for Women. To promote general security he forbade, under the same penalty, the attacking of any man, his wife, children, or servants, within his house or on his property.

Now, as they two sat here together this bitter winter evening, the old man grumbling, as ever, half to himself, half to his daughter, of the ill-luck that had steadily dogged him all his days, there came suddenly to them the sound of horses' feet on the stones of the courtyard outside, and presently one of the few remaining servants entered the room to say that a stranger was outside begging shelter for himself and for his groom.

And there was trouble with the servants; they were almost insolent. I couldn't understand. I don't know when it dawned on me that the old Baron Cavalcanti had been right when he said they were not my kind of people. But I wanted to get away, wanted it desperately." "Of course, they were not your kind," I cried. "The man was married! The girl Jennie, a housemaid, was a spy in Mrs.

Warriors thronged to visit the Lucky One, until the hall benches were filled, and the courtyard was so crowded with attendants that there was barely room for the servants to run between the horses with the ale horns.

It was all I could do to hold her in the hall while I called to the servants to come and shut the door." As is my habit, or my weakness, or my gift, I don't know which, I visualised the story for myself. I really can't help it. And the vision of Mrs Fyne dressed for a rather special afternoon function, engaged in wrestling with a wild-eyed, white-faced girl had a certain dramatic fascination.

The eldest invariably lived on the second floor, the second son on the third, which is the highest, though there is generally a low rambling attic, occupied by servants, and sometimes by the chaplain, the librarian and the steward, in better rooms.