Pretty soon another woman came, who had looked with envious eyes at Dame Clementina, because she was a count’s daughter; and another, who had grudged her a fine damask petticoat, which she had had before she was disinherited, and still wore on holidays; and they both had to stop.

Then came three rough-looking men in velvet jackets and slouched hats, who brought up short at the gate with a great jerk that nearly took their breath away.  They were robbers who were prowling about with a view to stealing Dame Clementina’s silver milk-pans some dark night.

[Illustration:  A STRANGE SAD STATE OF THINGS.]

All through the day the people kept coming and stopping.  It was wonderful how many things poor Dame Clementina had to be envied by men and women, and even children.  They envied Nan for her yellow curls or her blue eyes, or her pretty snuff-colored gown.  When the sun set, the yard in front of Dame Clementina’s cottage was full of people.  Lastly, just before dark, the count himself came ambling up on a coal-black horse.  The count was a majestic old man dressed in velvet, with stars on his breast.  His white hair fell in long curls on his shoulders, and he had a pointed beard.  As he came to the gate, he caught a glimpse of Nan in the door.

“How I wish that little maiden was my child,” said he.  And, straightway, he stopped.  His horse pawed and trembled when he lashed him with a jeweled whip to make him go on; but he could not stir forward one step.  Neither could the count dismount from his saddle; he sat there fuming with rage.

Meanwhile, poor Dame Clementina and little Nan were overcome with distress.  The sight of their yard full of all these weeping people was dreadful.  Neither of them had any idea how to do away with the trouble, because of their family inability to see their way out of a difficulty.

When supper time came, Nan went for the cows, and her mother milked them into her silver milk-pails, and strained off the milk into her silver pans.  Then they kindled up a fire and cooked some beautiful milk porridge for the poor people in the yard.

It was a beautiful warm moonlight night, and all the winds were sweet with roses and pinks; so the people could not suffer out of doors; but the next morning it rained.

“O, mother!” said Nan, “it is raining, and what will the poor people do?”

Dame Clementina would never have seen her way out of this difficulty, had not Dame Golding cried out that her bonnet was getting wet, and she wanted an umbrella.

“Why, you must go around to their houses, of course, and get their umbrellas for them,” said Dame Clementina; “but first, give ours to that old man on horseback.”  She did not know her father, so many years had passed since she had seen him, and he had altered so.

So Nan carried out their great yellow umbrella to the count, and went around to the others’ houses for their own umbrellas.  It was pitiful enough to see them standing all alone behind the doors.  She could not find three extra ones for the three robbers, and she felt badly about that.