followed Sir Gilbert and the guide into the great hall, which was built like a church, with centre and aisles, up a spiral staircase at one end of it, and into a small room hung with green say (Note 3). Here they had to wait a while, for every one was too busily employed in the reception of the royal guests to pay attention to such comparatively mean people. At last—when Sir Gilbert had yawned a dozen times, and strummed upon the table about as many, a door at the back of the room was opened, and a portly, comfortable-looking woman came forward to meet them. Was this the Countess? thought Clarice, with her heart fluttering. It was extremely unlike her ideal picture.

“Your servant, Sir Gilbert Le Theyn,” said the newcomer, in a cheerful, kindly voice. “I am Agatha Underdone, Mistress of the Maids unto my gracious Lady of Cornwall. I bid thee welcome, Clarice—I think that is thy name?”

Clarice acknowledged her name, with a private comforting conviction that Mistress Underdone, at least, would be pleasant enough to live with.

“You will wish, without doubt, to go down to hall, where is good company at this present,” pursued the latter, addressing Sir Gilbert. “So, if it please you to take leave of the maiden—”

Sir Gilbert put two fingers on Clarice’s head, as she immediately knelt before him. For a father to kiss a daughter was a rare thing at that time, and for the daughter to offer it would have been thought quite disrespectful, and much too familiar.

“Farewell, Clarice,” said he. “Be a good maid, be obedient and meek; please thy lady; and may God keep thee, and send thee an husband in good time.”

There was nothing more necessary in Sir Gilbert’s eyes. Obedience was the one virtue for Clarice to cultivate, and a husband (quality immaterial) was sufficient reward for any amount of virtue.

Clarice saw her father depart without any feeling of regret. He was even a greater stranger to her than her mother. She was a self-contained, lonely-hearted girl, capable of intense love and hero-worship, but never having come across one human being who had attracted those qualities from their nest in her heart.

“Now follow me, Clarice,” said Mistress Underdone, “and I will introduce thee to the maidens, thy fellows, of whom there are four beside thee at this time.”

Clarice followed, silently, up a further spiral staircase, and into a larger chamber, where four girls were sitting at work.

“Maidens,” said Mistress Underdone, “this is your new fellow, Clarice La Theyn, daughter of Sir Gilbert Le Theyn and Dame Maisenta La Heron. Stand, each in turn, while I tell her your names.”

The nearest of the four, a slight, delicate-looking, fair-haired girl, rose at once, gathering her work on her arm.

“Olympias Trusbut, youngest daughter of Sir Robert Trusbut, of the county of Lincoln, and Dame Joan Twentymark,” announced Mistress Underdone.

She turned to the next, a short, dark, merry-looking damsel.

“Elaine Criketot, daughter of Sir William Criketot and Dame Alice La Gerunell, of the county of Chester.”

The third was tall, stately, and sedate.

“Diana Quappelad, daughter of Sir Walter Quappelad and Dame Beatrice Cotele, of the county of Rutland.”

Lastly rose a quiet, gentle-looking girl.

“Roisia de Levinton, daughter of Sir Hubert de Levinton and Dame Maud Ingham, of the county of Surrey.”

Clarice’s heart went faintly out to the girl from her own county, but she was much too shy to utter a word.

Having introduced the girls to each other, Mistress Underdone left them to get acquainted at their leisure.

“Art thou only just come?” asked Elaine, who was the first to speak.

“Only just come,” repeated Clarice, timidly.

“Hast thou seen my Lady?”

“Not yet: I should like to see her.”

Elaine’s answer was a little half-suppressed laugh, which seemed the concentration of amusement.

“Maids, hear you this? Our new fellow has not seen the Lady. She would like to see her.”

A smile was reflected on all four faces. Clarice thought Diana’s was slightly satirical; those of the other two were rather pitying.

“Now, what dost thou expect her to be like?” pursued Elaine.

“I may be quite wrong,” answered Clarice, in the shy way which she was not one to lose quickly. “I fancied she would be tall—”

“Right there,” said Olympias.

“And dark—”

“Oh, no, she is fair.”

“And very beautiful, with sorrowful eyes, and a low, mournful voice.”

All the girls laughed, Roisia and Olympias gently, Diana scornfully, Elaine with shrill hilarity.

“Ha, jolife!” cried the last-named young lady. “Heard one ever the like? Only wait till supper. Then thou shalt see this lovely lady, with the sweet, sorrowful eyes and the soft, low voice. Pure foy! I shall die with laughing, Clarice, if thou sayest anything more.”

“Hush!” said Diana, sharply and suddenly; but Elaine’s amusement had too much impetus on it to be stopped all at once. She was sitting with her back to the door, her mirthful laughter ringing through the room, when the door was suddenly flung open, and two ladies appeared behind it. The startled, terrified expression on the faces of Olympias and Roisia warned Clarice that something unpleasant was going to happen. Had Mistress Underdone a superior, between her and the Countess, whom to offend was a very grave affair? Clarice looked round with much interest and some trepidation at the new comers.

Note 1. Stykelane and Bakepuce—both most unpleasantly suggestive names—occur on the Fines Roll for 1254.

Note 2. Saluzzo.

Note 3. A common coarse silk, used both for dress and upholstery.