"Nor to Antony?" asked Cis wistfully.

"To Antony? No, indeed! What has he to do with it? Now, to your
beds, children, and forget all about this tale."

"There, Humfrey," broke out Cis, as soon as they were alone together,
"Huckstress Tibbott _is_ a wise woman, whatever thou mayest say."

"How?" said Humfrey.

"Mindst thou not the day when I crossed her hand with the tester
father gave me?"

"When mother whipped thee for listening to fortune-tellers and
wasting thy substance. Ay, I mind it well," said Humfrey, "and how
thou didst stand simpering at her pack of lies, ere mother made thee
sing another tune."

"Nay, Humfrey, they were no lies, though I thought them so then. She
said I was not what I seemed, and that the Talbots' kennel would not
always hold one of the noble northern eagles. So Humfrey, sweet
Humfrey, thou must not make too sure of wedding me."

"I'll wed thee though all the lying old gipsy-wives in England wore
their false throats out in screeching out that I shall not," cried
Humfrey.

"But she must have known," said Cis, in an awestruck voice; "the
spirits must have spoken with her, and said that I am none of the