A Maid of Many Moods

er room at Mistress Blossom's house. She folded one garment after anothe

she had finished, and threw

ws," she said, eagerl

no sign; yet I fancy he hath a shade of hope, for no further hemorrh

e not hope." Then, after a moment's pause, "Tell m

s of this man be true. It seems they be first cousins, but while Sherwood is a most rarely good fellow, this other, albeit with the same grace o' manner and a handsome enough face, is by odds the most notorious s

She grasped the velvet sleeve of his tabard and g

r fast. I am bewildered. Is't tru

thou swooned, but 't went out o' my mind. Dost not remember asking me why Sherw

struck Nicholas Berwick, is in very truth little Dorien's father. So goes the man's name the Puritan maid

wered Darby. "Did'st not think there might chance be

North she told me of was he; and afterwards if he wilt come with thee, bring him here to me. Perchance he may be at Blackfriars, or-or 'The Tabard Inn,' or even abroad upon the s

in that distress which overt

weary of them and they will mend naught. There, cheer up, swe

m came the player Sherwood and another. The three enter

ly. "I met him on London Bridge. He hath

e girl answered. "

Blossom's little parlour wh

ng from one to the other.

Don Sherwood; her li

, softly. "I wronged thee

for it. This," motioning to the other, "this is my kinsman, Dorien North. He is m

e man before her cold

ndies, as I have taken passage for him on an outward-bound ship. He came to me for money to escape last night,

red, whitening,

burn or rot in Newgate. Yet I will even now tell the Captain under whom he was to sail that he i

this and laughed a short, hard laugh. His dazzling white teeth gl

l and the deep sea." Then, with a low bow to Debora, raising his hand against his heart in court

daughter of Makepeace Quinten, the Puritan, who lives near Kenilworth," said Debora, gravely; "b

with bold effrontery, raising his

e when it was small and fair and innocent. Oh! I am sorry for thee, Master Dorien North, mor

e man's face, and for

. I wronged Nell Quinten, and the child is mine. Yet I would be altogether

en listening in sile

k from here to the docks there will be danger of arrest; the heavy cloak an

ug, "but it troubles me little. I bid thee farewell

surely need some fair wishes to take with thee. Oh! I know thou hast been i' the wrong, many, many times over. Perchance, hitherto thou

ars?" he questioned, hesitatingly. "I

nhappy past. Take not thy sins with thee into the new country. Ah! no. Neither go with bitterness in thy heart towards any, but live through the days that come as any gentl

t, then stooped, lifted Debora's

ice; "yet, 'fore Heaven, from such a priest I mind i

take thee from me," he said, passionately. "I would not

" she a

Shottery to wed

sly. "Yet I would have thee come to Shottery by-and-bye-peradventure, when

away, the summer," he r

d, tenderly; and with this assurance, and because he would fain