260 MASTER SKYLARK

A portly, well-clad countryman, with a shrewd but good-
humored countenance, and a wife beside him round and
rosy of face as he, came bustling out of the private door.
“How far yet, Master John?” he asked as he buckled on
his cloak. “Forty-two miles to Oxford, sir,” replied the
carrier. “We must be off if we ’re to lie at Uxbridge
overnight; for there hath been rain beyond, sir, and the
roads be werry deep.”

Nick stared at the man for Oxford. Forty-two miles
to Oxford! And Oxford lay to the south of Stratford
fifty miles and two. Ninety-four miles from Stratford
town! Ninety-four miles from home!

“When will my father come for us, Nick?” asked Cicely,
turning her hand in the sun to see the red along the edges
of her fingers.

“Indeed, I can na tell,” said Nick; “ Master Will Shak-
spere is coming anon, and I shall go with him.”

“And leave me by myself?”

“Nay; thou shalt go, too. Thou ‘lt love to see his gar-
den and the rose-trees—it is like a very country place.
He is a merry gentleman, and, oh, so kind! He is going
to take me home.”

“But my father will take us home when he comes.”

“To Stratford town, I mean.”

“ Away from daddy and me? Why, Nick!”

“But my mother is in Stratford town.”

Cicely was silent. “Then I think I would go, too,” she
said quite softly, looking down as if there were a picture
on the ground. ‘When one’s mother is gone there is a