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As she sat and span in the twilight, one name after another occurred to her mind, but only to be all declined with thanks. There was her neighbour next door, Annora Goldhue: she had three daughters. No, none of them would do. Joan was idle, and Amy was conceited, and Frethesancia had a temper.
They now sat down to work for the rest of the evening, Avice on the settle in the corner, Bertha on one of the low stools which she brought up to the hearth. "Lack-a-day! what have I forgot!" said Avice as Bertha drew up her stool and unfolded the apron she was making. "I thought to have asked Nora Goldhue for a sprig of betony, or else purslane.
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