She wore the simple dress of the citizen class, a rather full skirt of cloth--of a finer texture perhaps than some, and of a dark crimson colour which well became her--and the laced bodice and full sleeves of the day.

Round her throat she had a fine white muslin kerchief edged with lace, and her apron was of the same.

She had plainly been wearing a hood of cloth like her dress, but this was now lying on the table; and her pretty dark brown hair, rather ruffled, was bound by nothing save a snood of crimson riband.

Her profile was turned to Tom, and he saw a sweet, little, merry face, with a nose a trifle tip-tilted, and a cheek the colour of a damask rose.
It seemed as though the opening of the door had been heard, for the maid exclaimed in a merry voice: "O father dear, I do love your picture of Absalom and David! I think the king's great periwig is most beautifully depicted.

But I would like a companion picture on the other side--the mule running away with Absalom, and the periwig left hanging on the tree!" Then turning full round a laughing rosy face and a pair of roguish hazel eyes, the maid suddenly found herself face to face with this very fine young gentleman, and in a moment the smile died away, although there was no displeasure in the glance of curiosity and admiration which she bestowed upon him.
Tom made his best bow, and the maiden dropped him a pretty courtesy, saying with frank fearlessness: "You are surely my father's lodger, of whom he spoke to me.