Long before this, however, a trampling had been heard in the court, and a shrill voice, well known to Richard and Susan, was heard demanding, “Come home, is she—­Master Diccon too?  More shame for you, you sluttish queans and lazy lubbers, never to have let me know; but none of you have any respect—­”

A visit from my Lady Countess was a greater favour to such a household as that of Bridgefield than it would be to a cottage of the present day; Richard was hurrying downstairs, and Susan only tarried to throw off the housewifely apron in which she had been compounding a cooling drink for the poor old lady, and to wash her hands, while Humfrey, rushing up to her, exclaimed “Mother, mother, is it the Queen?”

Queen Elizabeth herself was not inaptly represented by her namesake of Hardwicke, the Queen of Hallamshire, sitting on her great white mule at the door, sideways, with her feet on a board, as little children now ride, and attended by a whole troop of gentlemen ushers, maidens, prickers, and running footmen.  She was a woman of the same type as the Queen, which was of course enough to stamp her as a celebrated beauty, and though she had reached middle age, her pale, clear complexion and delicate features were well preserved.  Her chin was too sharp, and there was something too thin and keen about her nose and lips to promise good temper.  She was small of stature, but she made up for it in dignity of presence, and as she sat there, with her rich embroidered green satin farthingale spreading out over the mule, her tall ruff standing up fanlike on her shoulders, her riding-rod in her hand, and her master of the horse standing at her rein, while a gentleman usher wielded an enormous, long-handled, green fan, to keep the sun from incommoding her, she was, perhaps, even more magnificent than the maiden queen herself might have been in her more private expeditions.  Indeed, she was new to her dignity as Countess, having been only a few weeks married to the Earl, her fourth husband.  Captain Talbot did not feel it derogatory to his dignity as a gentleman to advance with his hat in his hand to kiss her hand, and put a knee to the ground as he invited her to alight, an invitation his wife heard with dismay as she reached the door, for things were by no means yet as they should be in the hall.  She curtsied low, and advanced with her son holding her hand, but shrinking behind her.

“Ha, kinswoman, is it thou!” was her greeting, as she, too, kissed the small, shapely, white, but exceedingly strong hand that was extended to her; “So thou art come, and high time too.  Thou shouldst never have gone a-gadding to Hull, living in lodgings; awaiting thine husband, forsooth.  Thou art over young a matron for such gear, and so I told Diccon Talbot long ago.”

“Yea, madam,” said Richard, somewhat hotly, “and I made answer that my Susan was to be trusted, and truly no harm has come thereof.”