gate, and solicited the old woman's attention. "My father, Alice, is come to see you."
"He is welcome, Miss Ashton, and so are you," said the old woman, turning and inclining her head towards her visitors.
"This is a fine morning for your bee-hives, mother," said the Lord Keeper, who, struck with the outward appearance of Alice, was somewhat curious to know if her conversation would correspond with it.
"I believe so, my lord," she replied; "I feel the air breathe milder than of late."
"You do not," resumed the statesman, "take charge of these bees yourself, mother?—How do you manage them?"
"By delegates, as kings do their subjects," resumed Alice, "and I am fortunate in a prime minister—Here, Babie."
She whistled on a small silver call which hung around her neck, and which at that time was sometimes used to summon domestics, and Babie, a girl of fifteen, made
