This parlour was free to Tom, who, however, had not so far troubled it much with his presence; but now he pushed open the door with pardonable curiosity, and beheld at once the singer of the quaint little refrain.

A slim young maiden was standing at the window, looking down into the street below.  She wore the simple dress of the citizen class, a rather full skirt of cloth—­of a finer texture perhaps than some, and of a dark crimson colour which well became her—­and the laced bodice and full sleeves of the day.  Round her throat she had a fine white muslin kerchief edged with lace, and her apron was of the same.  She had plainly been wearing a hood of cloth like her dress, but this was now lying on the table; and her pretty dark brown hair, rather ruffled, was bound by nothing save a snood of crimson riband.  Her profile was turned to Tom, and he saw a sweet, little, merry face, with a nose a trifle tip-tilted, and a cheek the colour of a damask rose.

It seemed as though the opening of the door had been heard, for the maid exclaimed in a merry voice: 

“O father dear, I do love your picture of Absalom and David!  I think the king’s great periwig is most beautifully depicted.  But I would like a companion picture on the other side—­the mule running away with Absalom, and the periwig left hanging on the tree!”

Then turning full round a laughing rosy face and a pair of roguish hazel eyes, the maid suddenly found herself face to face with this very fine young gentleman, and in a moment the smile died away, although there was no displeasure in the glance of curiosity and admiration which she bestowed upon him.

Tom made his best bow, and the maiden dropped him a pretty courtesy, saying with frank fearlessness: 

“You are surely my father’s lodger, of whom he spoke to me.  I crave your pardon for not sooner seeing you.  But I knew not that you were in the house, and thought it must needs be my father at the door.”

Tom advanced and stood beside her in the window.  The pair regarded each other with a frank and friendly curiosity.

“Are you Master Cale’s daughter, pretty maiden?” asked Tom.

She nodded her head archly, whilst Tom hastened to ask: 

“But how comes it then that I have never seen you before?  I thought he lived alone, with only his housekeeper, shopman, and apprentice in the house.”

“And so he does,” answered the maid.  “He will not have me to dwell here.  As soon as my mother died, when I was but eight years old, he sent me away to my aunt in Highgate, with whom I have remained ever since.  Fain would I come back and keep house for him, but he will none of it.  He says that his house is no place for me, and he will never let me visit him even of a week day.  But upon most Sundays he either comes forth to fetch me, or my aunt brings me hither to him.  Last Sunday the rain poured down so lustily that we were e’en forced to bide at home; but whenever it is possible we spend the day together, and I love to come into the town and walk abroad with him there, and see such sights as may be seen upon the Sabbath day.”