CHAPTER 5: The House On The Bridge.
"Keren Happuch." "Yes, aunt." The reply came only after a brief pause, as though the rosy-cheeked maiden at the casement would fain have declined to answer to that abhorred name had she dared--which was indeed pretty much the case; for though it was undeniably her own, and she could not gainsay the unpalatable fact, nobody in the world but Aunt Susan ever aggrieved her by using it.

Even her grave father had adopted the "Cherry" that was universal alike with relatives and friends, and the girl never heard the clumsy and odious appellation without a natural longing to box the offender's ears.
"What art doing, child ?" questioned the voice from below.
Now Cherry was undeniably idling away the morning hours by looking out of her window at the lively scene below; and perhaps it was scarce wonderful that the sights and sounds without attracted her.
It was a sunny November morning, and the sun was shining quite hotly; for the soft wind from the south was blowing--it had suddenly veered round in the night--and all nature seemed to be rejoicing in the change.

The river ran sparkling on its way to the sea; the barges and wherries, and larger craft that anchored in the stream or plied their way up and down, gave animation and brightness to the great water way; whilst the old bridge, with its quaint-timbered houses with their projecting upper stories, its shops with their swinging signs, and noisy apprentices crying their masters' wares or playing or quarrelling in the open street, and its throngs of passers by, from the blind beggar to the gay court gallant, provided a shifting and endless panorama of entertainment to the onlooker, which pretty Mistress Cherry certainly appreciated, if no one else in that grave Puritan household did the like.

But possibly she thought that her aunt's question must not be too literally answered, for she hastily skipped across the panelled chamber, seized her distaff, and answered meekly; "I am about to spin, aunt." "Humph!" the answer sounded more like a grunt than anything else, and warned Cherry that Mistress Susan, her father's sister, who had ruled his household for the past ten years, since the death of his wife, was in no very amiable temper.
"I know what that means.

Thy spinning is a fine excuse for idling away thy time in the parlour, when thou mightest be learning housewifery below.