Two Penniless Princesses Read online

  CHAPTER 4. ST. HELEN S

  'I thought King Henry had resembled thee, In courage, courtship, and proportion: But all his mind is bent to holiness, To number Ave-Maries on his beads: His champions are the prophets and apostles; His weapons, holy saws of sacred writ.' King Henry VI.

  George Douglas's chivalrous venture in defence of the falcon of hislady-love had certainly not done much for him hitherto, as Davieobserved. The Lady Joanna, as every one now called her, took it as onlythe bounden duty and natural service of one of her suite, and would havecared little for his suffering for it personally, except so far as itconcerned her own dignity, which she understood much better than shehad done in Scotland, where she was only one of 'the lassies,' anencumbrance to every one.

  The York retainers had dropped all idea of visiting his offence uponDouglas when they found that he had acted in the service of an honouredguest of their lord, but they did not look with much favour on him oron any other of the Scottish troop, whom their master enjoined them totreat as guests and comrades.

  The uniting of so many suites of the mighty nobles of the fifteenthcentury formed quite a little army, amounting to some two or threehundred horsemen, mostly armed, and well appointed, with their masters'badges on their sleeves,--falcon and fetterlock, dun cow, bear andragged staff and the cross of Durham, while all likewise wore in theircaps the white rose. Waggons with household furniture and kitchenneedments had been sent in advance with the numerous 'black guard,' anda provision of cattle for slaughter accompanied these, since it was oneof the considerate acts that already had won affection to Richard ofYork that, unlike many of the great nobles, he always avoided as much aspossible letting his train be oppressive to the country-people.

  David Drummond had been seeing that all his father's troop were dulyprovided with the Drummond badge, the thyme, which was requisite asshowing them accepted of the Duke of York's company, but as George andhis follower had never submitted to wear it, he was somewhat surprisedto find the gray blossom prominent in George's steel-guarded cap, and tohear him saying--

  'Don it, Ringan, as thou wouldst obey me.'

  'His father's son is not his own father,' said Ringan sulkily.

  'Then tak' thy choice of wearing it, or winning hame as thou canst--mostlike hanging on the nearest oak.'

  'And I'd gey liefer than demean myself in the Drummond thyme!' repliedRingan, half turning away. 'But then what would come of Gray Meg wi'only the Master to see till her,' muttered he, caressing the mare'sneck. 'Weel, aweel, sir'--and he held out his hand for the despisedspray.

  'Is yon thy wild callant, Geordie?' said David in some surprise, forRingan was not only provided with a pony, but his thatch of tow-likehair had been trimmed and covered with a barret cap, and his leatherncoat and leggings were like those of the other horse-boys.

  'Ay,' said George, 'this is no place to be ower kenspeckle.'

  'I was coming to ask,' said David, 'if thou wouldst not own thyself tomy father, and take thy proper place ere ganging farther south. It irksme to see some of the best blood in Scotland among the grooms.'

  'It must irk thee still, Davie,' returned George. 'These English folkmight not thole to see my father's son in their hands without winningsomething out of him, and I saw by what passed the other day that thouand thy father would stand by me, hap what hap, and I'll never embroilhim and peril the lady by my freak.'

  'My father kens pretty well wha is riding in his companie,' said David.

  'Ay, but he is not bound to ken.'

  'And thou winna write to the Yerl, as ye said ye would when ye were owerthe Border? There's a clerk o' the Bishop of Durham ganging back, andmy father is writing letters that he will send forward to the King, andthou couldst get a scart o' the pen to thy father.'

  'And what wad be thought of a puir man-at-arms sending letters tothe Yerl?' said George. 'Na, na; I may write when we win to France,a friendly land, but while we are in England, the loons shall makenaething out of my father's son.'

  'Weel, gang thine ain gait, and an unco strange one it is,' said David.'I marvel what thou count'st on gaining by it!'

  'The sicht of her at least,' said George. 'Nay, she needed a stout handonce, she may need it again.'

  Whereat David waved his hands in a sort of contemptuous wonder.

  'If it were the Duchess of York now!' he said. 'She is far bonnier andeven prouder, gin that be what tak's your fancy! And as to our Jeanie,they are all cockering her up till she'll no be content with a king. Idoot me if the Paip himself wad be good enough for her!'

  It was true that the brilliant and lively Lady Joanna was in high favourwith the princely gallants of the cavalcade. The only member of theparty at all equal to her in beauty was the Duchess of York, whotravelled in a whirlicote with her younger children and her ladies, andat the halting-places never relaxed the stiff dignity with which shetreated every one. Eleanor did indeed accompany her sister, but she hadnot Jean's quick power of repartee, and she often answered at haphazard,and was not understood when she did reply; nor had she Jean's beauty,so that in the opinion of most of the young nobles she was but a raw,almost dumb, Scotswoman, and was left to herself as much as courtesypermitted, except by the young King of the Isle of Wight, a gentle,poetical personage, in somewhat delicate health, with tastes that madehim the chosen companion of the scholarly King Henry. He could repeat agreat deal of Chaucer's poetry by heart, the chief way in which peoplecould as yet enjoy books, and there was an interchange between them of"Blind Harry" and of the "Canterbury Tales", as they rode side by side,sometimes making their companions laugh, and wonder that the youthfulqueen was not jealous. Dame Lilias found her congenial companion in theCountess Alice of Salisbury, who could talk with her of that goldenage of the two kings, Henry and James, of her brother Malcolm, and ofEsclairmonde de Luxembourg, now Sister Clare, whom they hoped soon tosee in the sisterhood of St. Katharine's.

  'Hers hath been the happy course, the blessed dedication,' said CountessAlice.

  'We have both been blessed too, thanks to the saints,' returned Lilias.

  'That is indeed sooth,' replied the other lady. 'My lord hath ever beenmost good to me, and I have had joy of my sons. Yet there is much thatmy mind forbodes and shrinks back from in dread, as I watch my sonRichard's overmastering spirit.'

  'The Cardinal and the Duke of Gloucester have long been at strife, as weheard,' said Lady Drummond, 'but sure that will be appeased now that theCardinal is an old man and your King come to years of discretion.'

  'The King is a sweet youth, a very saint already,' replied the Countess,'but I misdoubt whether he have the stout heart and strong hand of hisfather, and he is set on peace.'

  'Peace is to be followed,' said Lilias, amazed at the tone in which herfriend mentioned it.

  'Peace at home! Ay, but peace at home is only to be had by war abroad.Peace abroad without honour only leaves these fiery spirits to fume,and fly at one another's throats, or at those who wrought it. My mindmisgives me, mine old friend, lest wrangling lead to blows. I had rathersee my Richard spurring against the French than against his cousins ofSomerset, and while they advance themselves and claim to be nearer inblood to the King than our good host of York, so long will there because of bitterness.'

  'Our kindly host seems to wish evil to no man.'

  'Nay, he is content enough, but my sister his wife, and alas! my son,cannot let him forget that after the Duke of Gloucester he is highest inthe direct male line to King Edward of Windsor, and in the female linestands nearer than this present King.'

  'In Scotland he would not forget that his father suffered for that verycause.'

  'Ah, Lilias, thou hast seen enow of what such blood-feuds work inScotland to know how much I dread and how I pray they may never awakenhere. The blessed King Harry of Monmouth kept them down by the stronghand, while he won all hearts to himself. It is my prayer that his youngson may do the like, and that my Lord of York be not fretted out o
f hispeaceful loyalty by the Somerset "outrecuidance", and above all thatmy own son be not the make-bate; but Richard is proud and fiery, and Ifear--I greatly fear, what may be in store for us.'

  Lilias thought of Eleanor's vision, but kept silence respecting it.

  Forerunners had been sent on by the Duke of York to announce his coming,and who were in his company; and on the last stage these returned,bringing with them a couple of knights and of clerks on the part of theCardinal of Winchester to welcome his great-nieces, whom he claimed ashis guests.

  'I had hoped that the ladies of Scotland would honour my poor house,'said the Duke.

  'The Lord Cardinal deems it thus more fitting,' said the portly priestwho acted as Beaufort's secretary, and who spoke with an authority thatchafed the Duke.

  Richard Nevil rode up to him and muttered--'He hath divined our purpose,and means to cross it.'

  The clerk, however, spoke with Sir Patrick, and in a manner tookpossession of the young ladies. They were riding between walled courts,substantially built, with intervals of fields and woods, or sometimesindeed of morass; for London was still an island in the middle ofswamps, with the great causeways of the old Roman times leading toit. The spire of St. Paul's and the square keep of the Tower had beenpointed out to them, and Jean exclaimed--

  'My certie, it is a braw toon!'

  But Eleanor, on her side, exclaimed--

  ''Tis but a flat! Mine eye wearies for the sea; ay, and for Arthur'sSeat and the Castle! Oh, I wadna gie Embro' for forty of sic toons!'

  Perhaps Jean had guessed enough to make her look on London with an eyeof possession, for her answer was--

  'Hear till her; and she was the first to cry out upon Embro' for a placeof reivers and land-loupers, and to want to leave it.'

  There was so much that was new and wonderful that the sisters pursuedthe question no further. They saw the masts of the shipping in theThames, and what seemed to them a throng of church towers and spires;while, nearer, the road began to be full of market-folk, the women inhoods and mantles and short petticoats, the men in long frocks, such astheir Saxon forefathers had worn, driving the rough ponies or donkeysthat had brought in their produce. There were begging friars in cowl andfrock, and beggars, not friars, with crutch and bowl; there were gleemenand tumbling women, solid tradesfolk going out to the country farms theyloved, troops of 'prentices on their way to practice with the bow orcudgel, and parties of gaily-coloured nobles, knights, squires, andburgesses, coming, like their own party, to the meeting of Parliament.

  There were continual greetings, the Duke of York showing himself mostmarkedly courteous to all, his dark head being almost continuouslyuncovered, and bending to his saddle-bow in response to the salutationsthat met him; and friendly inquiries and answers being often exchanged.The Earl of Salisbury and his son were almost equally courteous; but inthe midst of all the interest of these greetings, soon after enteringthe city at Bishopsgate, the clerk caused the two Scottish sisters todraw up at an arched gateway in a solid-looking wall, saying that it washere that my Lord Cardinal wished his royal kinswomen to be received, atthe Priory of St. Helen's. A hooded lay-sister looked out at a wicket,and on his speaking to her, proceeded to unbar the great gates, whilethe Duke of York took leave in a more than kindly manner, declaring thatthey would meet again, and that he knew 'My Lady of St. Helen's wouldmake them good cheer.'

  Indeed, he himself and the King of Wight rode into the outer court, andlifted the two ladies down from horseback, at the inner gate, beyondwhich they might not go. Jean, crossed now for the first time since shehad left home, was in tears of vexation, and could hardly control hervoice to respond to his words, muttering--

  'As if I looked for this. Beshrew the old priest!'

  None but female attendants could be admitted. Sir Patrick, with his sonsand the rest of the train, was to be lodged at the great palace of theBishop of Winchester at Southwark, and as he came up to take leave ofJean, she said, with a stamp of her foot and a clench of her hand--

  'Let my uncle know that I am no cloister-bird to be mewed up here. Idemand to be with the friends I have made, and who have bidden me.'

  Shrewd Sir Patrick smiled a little as he said--

  'I will tell the Lord Cardinal what you say, lady; but methinks you willfind that submission to him with a good grace carries you farther herethan does ill-humour.'

  He said something of the same kind to his wife as he took leave ofher, well knowing who were predominant with the King, and who were inopposition, the only link being the King of Wight, or rather Earl ofWarwick, who, as the son of Henry's guardian, had been bred up in theclosest intimacy with the monarch, and, indeed, had been invested withhis fantastic sovereignty that he might be treated as a brother and onan equality.

  Jean, however, remained very angry and discontented. After her neglectedand oppressed younger days, the courtesy and admiration she had receivedfor the last ten days had the effect of making her like a spoilt child;and when they entered the inner cloistered court within, and were met bythe Lady Prioress, at the head of all her sisters in black dresses, shehardly vouchsafed an inclination of the head in reply to the gracefuland courtly welcome with which the princesses, nieces to the greatCardinal, were received. Eleanor, usually in the background, was left insurprise and confusion to stammer out thanks in broad Scotch, secondedby Lady Drummond, who could make herself far more intelligible to thesesouth-country ears.

  There was a beautiful cloister, a double walk with clustered columnsrunning down the centre and a vaulted roof, and with a fountain in themidst of the quadrangle. There was a chapel on one side, the buildingsof the Priory on the others. It was only a Priory, for the parent Abbeywas in the country; but the Prioress was a noble lady of the house ofStafford, a small personage as to stature, but thoroughly alert andbusiness-like, and, in fact, the moving spring, not only of the actualhouse, but of the parent Abbey, manager of the property it possessed inthe city, and of all its monastic politics.

  Without apparent offence, she observed that no doubt the ladies wereweary, and that Sister Mabel should conduct them to the guest-chamber.Accordingly one of the black figures led the way, and as soon asthey were beyond ear-shot there were observations that would not havegratified Jean.

  'The ill-nurtured Scots!' cried one young nun. ''Tis ever the way withthem,' returned a much older one. 'I mind when one was captive in myfather's castle who was a mere clown, and drank up the water that wasmeant to wash his fingers after meat. The guest-chamber will need acleaning after they are gone!'

  'Methinks it was less lack of manners than lack of temper,' said thePrioress. 'She hath the Beaufort face and the Beaufort spirit.'

  The chapel bell began to ring, and the black veils and white filed inlong procession to the pointed doorway, while the two Scottish damsels,with Lady Drummond, her daughter, and Christie, were conducted to threechambers looking out on the one side on the cloistered court, on theother over a choicely-kept garden, walled in, but planted with treesshading the turf walks. The rooms were, as Sister Mabel explained withsome complacency, reserved for the lodging of the noble ladies who cameto London as guests of my Lord Cardinal, or with petitions to the King;and certainly there was nothing of asceticism about them; but they werean advance even on those at Fotheringay. St. Helena discovering theCross was carved over the ample chimney, and the hangings were ofSpanish leather, with all the wondrous history of Santiago's relics,including the miracle of the cock and hen, embossed and gilt upon them.There was a Venetian mirror, in which the ladies saw more of themselvesthan they had ever done before, and with exquisite work around; therewere carved chests inlaid with ivory, and cushions, perfect marvels ofneedlework, as were the curtains and coverlets of the mighty bed, andthe screens to be arranged for privacy. There were toilette vessels ofbeautifully shaped and brightly polished brass, and on a silver salverwas a refection of manchet bread, comfits, dried cherries, and wine.

  Sister Mabel explained that a lay-sister would be at hand, in caseanything w
as needed by the noble ladies, and then hurried away tovespers.

  Jean threw herself upon the cross-legged chair that stood nearest.

  'A nunnery forsooth! Does our uncle trow that is what I came here for?We have had enow of nunneries at home.'

  'Oh, fie for shame, Jeanie!' cried Eleanor.

  ''Twas thou that saidst it,' returned Jean. 'Thou saidst thou hadst nocall to the veil, and gin my Lord trows that we shall thole to be shutup here, he will find himself in the wrong.'

  'Lassie, lassie,' exclaimed Lady Drummond, 'what ails ye? This is but alodging, and sic a braw chamber as ye hae scarce seen before. Would youhave your uncle lodge ye among all his priests and clerks? Scarce theplace for douce maidens, I trow.'

  'Leddy of Glenuskie, ye're not sae sib to the bluid royal of Scotland asto speak thus! Lassie indeed!'

  Again Eleanor remonstrated. 'Jeanie, to speak thus to our gudekinswoman!'

  'I would have all about me ken their place, and what fits them,' saidthe haughty young lady, partly out of ill-temper and disappointment,partly in imitation of the demeanour of Duchess Cicely. 'As to theCardinal, I would have him bear in mind that we are a king's owndaughters, and he is at best but the grandson of a king! And if he deemsthat he has a right to shut us up here out of sight of the King andhis court, lest we should cross his rule over his King and disturb hisFrench policy and craft, there are those that will gar him ken better!'

  'Some one else will ken better,' quietly observed Dame Lilias. 'Gin yebe no clean daft, Leddy Joanna, since naething else will serve ye, cannaye see that to strive with the Cardinal is the worst gait to win hisfavour with the King, gin that be what ye be set upon?'

  'There be others that can deal with the King, forbye the Cardinal,' saidJean, tossing her head.

  Just then arrived a sister, sent by the Mother Prioress, to invite theladies to supper in her own apartments.

  Her respectful manner so far pacified Jean's ill-humour that a civilreply was returned; the young ladies bestirred themselves to makepreparations, though Jean grumbled at the trouble for 'a pack ofwomenfolk'--and supposed they were to make a meal of dried peas and redherrings, like their last on Lammermuir.

  It was a surprise to be conducted, not to the refectory, where all thenuns took their meal together, but to a small room opening into thecloister on one side, and with a window embowered in vines on the other,looking into the garden. It was by no means bare, like the typical cellsof strict convents. The Mother, Margaret Stafford, was a great lady, andthe Benedictines of the old foundation of St. Helen's in the midst ofthe capital were indeed respectable and respected, but very far fromstrict observers of their rule--and St. Helen's was so much influencedby the wealth and display of the city that the nuns, many of whom werethese great merchants' daughters, would have been surprised to be toldthat they had departed from Benedictine simplicity. So the Prioress'schamber was tapestried above with St. Helena's life, and below wasenclosed with drapery panels. It was strewed with sweet fresh rushes,and had three cross-legged chairs, besides several stools; the table, asusual upon trestles, was provided with delicate napery, and there was adainty perfume about the whole; a beautiful crucifix of ivory and ebony,with images of Our Lady and St. John on either side, and another figureof St. Helena, cross in hand, presiding over the holy water stoup, werethe most ecclesiastical things in the garniture, except the exquisitelyilluminated breviary that lay open upon a desk.

  Mother Margaret rose to receive her guests with as much dignity asJean herself could have shown, and made them welcome to her poor house,hoping that they would there find things to their mind.

  Something restrained Jean from bursting out with her petulant complaint,and it was Eleanor who replied with warm thanks. 'My Lord Cardinalwould come to visit them on the morn,' the Prioress said; 'and in themeantime, she hoped,' looking at Jean, 'they would condescend to thehospitality of the poor daughters of St. Helen.'

  The hospitality, as brought in by two plump, well-fed lay-sisters,consisted of 'chickens in cretyne,' stewed in milk, seasoned with sugar,coloured with saffron, of potage of oysters, butter of almond-milk,and other delicate meats, such as had certainly never been tasted atStirling or Dunbar. Lady Drummond's birth entitled her and Annis tosit at table with the Princesses and the Prioress, and she ventured toinquire after Esclairmonde de Luxembourg, or, as she was now called,Sister Clare of St. Katharine's.

  'I see her at times. She is the head of the sisters,' said the Prioress;'but we have few dealings with uncloistered sisters.'

  'They do a holy work,' observed Lady Lilias.

  'None ever blamed the Benedictines for lack of alms-deeds,' returned thePrioress haughtily, scarcely attending to the guest's disclaimer. 'Nordo I deem it befitting that instead of the poor coming to us our sistersshould run about to all the foulest hovels of the Docks, encounteringmen continually, and those of the rudest sort.'

  'Yet there are calls and vocations for all,' ventured Lady Drummond.'And the sick are brethren in need.'

  'Let them send to us for succour then,' answered Mother Margaret. 'Igrant that it is well that some one should tend them in their huts, butsuch tasks are for sisters of low birth and breeding. Mine are ladies ofnoble rank, though I do admit daughters of Lord Mayors and Aldermen.'

  'Our Saint Margaret was a queen, Reverend Mother,' put in Eleanor.

  'She was no nun, saving your Grace,' said the Prioress. 'What I speak ofis that which beseems a daughter of St. Bennet, of an ancient and royalfoundation! The saving of the soul is so much harder to the worldlylife, specially to a queen, that it is no marvel if she has to abaseherself more--even to the washing of lepers--than is needful to a vowedand cloistered sister.'

  It was an odd theory, that this Benedictine seclusion saved trouble,as being actually the strait course; but the young maidens were notscholars enough to question it, and Dame Lilias, though she had learntmore from her brother and her friend, would have deemed it presumptuousto dispute with a Reverend Mother. So only Eleanor murmured, 'The holyMargaret no saint'--and Jean, 'Weel, I had liefer take my chance.'

  'All have not a vocation,' piously said the Mother. 'Taste this RoseDalmoyne, Madame; our lay-sister Mold is famed for making it. Analderman of the Fishmongers' Company sent to beg that his cook mightknow the secret, but that was not to be lightly parted with, so we onlysend them a dish for their banquets.'

  Rose Dalmoyne was chiefly of peas, flavoured with almonds and milk, butthe guests grew weary of the varieties of delicacies, and were very gladwhen the tables were removed, and Eleanor asked permission to look atthe illuminations in the breviary on the desk.

  And exquisite they were. The book had been brought from Italy andpresented to the Prioress by a merchant who wished to place his daughterin St. Helen's, and the beauty was unspeakable. There were naturalflowers painted so perfectly that the scattered violets seemed to invitethe hand to lift them up from their gold-besprinkled bed, and flies andbeetles that Eleanor actually attempted to drive away; and at all thegreater holy days, the type and the antitype covering the two wholeopposite pages were represented in the admirable art and pure colouringof the early Cinquecento.

  Eleanor and Annis were entranced, and the Prioress, seeing that bookshad an attraction for her younger guest, promised her on the morrow asight of some of the metrical lives of the saints, especially of St.Katharine and of St. Cecilia. It must be owned that Jean was not frettedas she expected by chapel bells in the middle of the night, nor waseven Lady Drummond summoned by them as she intended, but there was aconglomeration of the night services in the morning, with beautifulsinging, that delighted Eleanor, and the festival mass ensuing was alsomore ornate than anything to be seen in Scotland. And that the extensivealmsgiving had not been a vain boast was evident from the swarms of poorof all kinds who congregated in the outer court for the attention ofthe Sisters Almoner and Infirmarer, attended by two or three novices andsome lay-sisters.

  There were genuine poor, ragged forlorn women, and barefooted, almostnaked chil
dren, and also sturdy beggars, pilgrims and palmers on theirway to various shrines, north or south, and many more for whom a dole ofbroth or bread sufficed; but there were also others with heads or limbstied up, sometimes injured in the many street fights, but oftener withthe terrible sores only too common from the squalid habits and want ofvegetable diet of the poor. These were all attended to with a tendernessand patience that spoke well for the charity of Sister Anne and herassistants, and indeed before long Dame Lilias perceived that, howeverslack and easy-going the general habits might be, there were truly meekand saintly women among the sisterhood.

  The morning was not far advanced before a lay-sister came hurrying infrom the portress's wicket to announce that my Lord Cardinal was on hisway to visit the ladies of Scotland. There was great commotion. MotherMargaret summoned all her nuns and drew them up in state, and SisterMabel, who carried the tidings to the guests, asked whether they wouldnot join in receiving him.

  'We are king's daughters,' said Jean haughtily.

  'But he is a Prince of the Church and an aged man,' said Lady Drummond,who had already risen, and was adjusting that headgear of Eleanor's thatnever would stay in its place. And her matronly voice acted upon Jean,so as to conquer the petulant pride, enough to make her remember thatthe Lady of Glenuskie was herself a Stewart and king's grandchild, andmoreover knew more of courts and their habits than herself.

  So down they went together, in time to join the Prioress on the steps,as the attendants of the great stately, princely Cardinal Bishop beganto appear. He did not come in state, so that he had only half a dozenclerks and as many gentlemen in attendance, together with Sir Patrickand his two sons.

  Few of the Plantagenet family had been long-lived, and Cardinal Beaufortwas almost a marvel in the family at seventy. Much evil has been saidand written of him, and there is no doubt that he was one of thosemediaeval prelates who ought to have been warriors or statesmen, andthat he had been no model for the Episcopacy in his youth. But thoughfar from having been a saint, it would seem that his unpopularity in hisold age was chiefly incurred by his desire to put an end to the long andmiserable war with France, and by his opposition to a much worse man,the Duke of Gloucester, whose plausible murmurs and amiable mannersmade him a general favourite. At this period of his life the old man hadlived past his political ambitions, and his chief desire was to leavethe gentle young king freed from the wasting war by a permanent peace,to be secured by a marriage with a near connection of the Frenchmonarch, and daughter to the most honourable and accomplished Prince inEurope. That his measures turned out wretchedly has been charged uponhis memory, and he has been supposed guilty of a murder, of which he wascertainly innocent, and which probably was no murder at all.

  He had become a very grand and venerable old man, when old men werescarce, and his white hair and beard (a survival of the customs of thedays of Edward III) contrasted well with his scarlet hat and cape, as hecame slowly into the cloistered court on his large sober-paced Spanishmule; a knight and the chaplain of the convent assisted him from it, andthe whole troop of the convent knelt as he lifted his fingers to bestowhis blessing, Jean casting a quick glance around to satisfy her proudspirit. The Prioress then kissed his hand, but he raised and kissedthe cheeks of his two grand-nieces, after which he moved on to thePrioress's chamber, and there, after being installed in her large chair,and waving to the four favoured inmates to be also seated, he lookedcritically at the two sisters, and observed, 'So, maidens! one favoursthe mother, the other the father! Poor Joan, it is two-and-twenty yearssince we bade her good-speed, she and her young king--who behoved tobe a minstrel--on her way to her kingdom, as if it were the land ofCockayne, for picking up gold and silver. Little of that she found, Itrow, poor wench. Alack! it was a sore life we sent her to. And you aremourning her freshly, my maidens! I trust she died at peace with God andman.'

  'That reiver, Patrick Hepburn, let the priest from Haddington come toassoilzie and housel her,' responded Jean.

  'Ah! Masses shall be said for her by my bedesmen at St. Cross, and atall my churches,' said the Cardinal, crossing himself. 'And you are onyour way to your sister, the Dolfine, as your knight tells me. It iswell. You may be worthily wedded in France, and I will take order foryour safe going. Meantime, this is a house where you may well serveyour poor mother's soul by prayers and masses, and likewise perfectyourselves in French.'

  This was not at all what Jean had intended, and she pouted a little,while the Cardinal asked, changing his language, 'Ces donzelles, ontelles appris le Francais?'

  Jean, who had tried to let Father Romuald teach her a little inconversation during the first part of the journey, but who had droppedthe notion since other ideas had been inspired at Fotheringay, could notunderstand, and pouted the more; but Eleanor, who had been interested,and tried more in earnest, for Margaret's sake, answered diffidently andblushing deeply, 'Un petit peu, beau Sire Oncle.'

  He smiled, and said, 'You can be well instructed here. The ReverendMother hath sisters here who can both speak and write French of Paris.'

  'That have I truly, my good Lord,' replied the Prioress. 'Sisters Isabeland Beata spent their younger days, the one at Rouen, the other atBordeaux, and have learned many young ladies in the true speaking of theFrench tongue.'

  'It is well!' said the Cardinal, 'my fair nieces will have good leisure.While sharing the orisons that I will institute for the repose of yourmother, you can also be taught the French.'

  Jean could not help speaking now, so far was this from all her hopes.'Sir, sir, the Duke and Duchess of York, and the Countess of Salisbury,and the Queen of the Isle of Wight all bade us to be their guests.'

  'They could haply not have been aware of your dool,' said the Cardinalgravely.

  'But, my Lord, our mother hath been dead since before Martinmas,'exclaimed Jean.

  'I know not what customs of dool be thought befitting in a land likeScotland,' said the Cardinal, in such a repressive manner that Jeanwas only withheld by awe from bursting into tears of disappointment andanger at the slight to her country.

  Lady Drummond ventured to speak. 'Alack, my Lord,' she said, 'my poorQueen died in the hands of a freebooter, leaving her daughters in suchstress and peril that they had woe enough for themselves, till theirbrother the King came to their rescue.'

  'The more need that they should fulfil all that may be done for thegrace of her soul,' replied the uncle; but just at this crisis ofJean's mortification there was a knocking at the door, and a sisterbreathlessly entreated--

  'Pardon! Merci! My Lord, my Lady Mother! Here's the King, the Kinghimself--and the King and Queen of the Isle of Wight asking licence toenter to visit the ladies of Scotland.'

  Kings were always held to be free to enter anywhere, even far moredangerous monarchs than the pious Henry VI. Jean's heart bounded upagain, with a sense of exultation over the old uncle, as the Prioresswent out to receive her new guest, and the Cardinal emitted a sort ofgrunting sigh, without troubling himself to go out to meet the youth,whom he had governed from babyhood, and in whose own name he had, asone of the council, given permission for wholesome chastisements of theroyal person.

  King Henry entered. He was then twenty-four years old, tall, graceful,and with beautiful features and complexion, almost feminine in theirdelicacy, and with a wonderful purity and sweetness in the expressionof the mouth and blue eyes, so that he struck Eleanor as resembling theangels in the illuminations that she had been studying, as he removedhis dark green velvet jewelled cap on entering, and gave a cousinly,respectful kiss lightly to each of the young ladies on her cheek,somewhat as if he were afraid of them. Then after greeting the Cardinal,who had risen on his entrance, he said that, hearing that his faircousins were arrived, he had come to welcome them, and to entreat themto let him do them such honour as was possible in a court without aqueen.

  'The which lack will soon be remedied,' put in his grand-uncle.

  'Truly you are in holy keeping here,' said the pious young King,crossing himself, 'but I
trust, my sweet cousins, that you will favourmy poor house at Westminster with your presence at a supper, and sharesuch entertainment as is in our power to provide.'

  'My nieces are keeping their mourning for their mother, from which theyhave hitherto been hindered by the tumults of their kingdom,' said theCardinal.

  'Ah!' said the King, crossing himself, and instantly moved, 'far be itfrom me to break into their holy retirement for such a purpose.' (Jeancould have bitten the Cardinal.) 'But I will take order with my LordAbbot of Westminster for a grand requiem mass for the good Queen Joanna,at which they will, I trust, be present, and they will honour my poortable afterwards.'

  To refuse this was quite impossible, and the day was to be fixed afterreference to the Abbess. Meantime the King's eye was caught by theilluminated breviary. He was a connoisseur in such arts, and eagerlystood up to look at it as it lay on the desk. Eleanor could not but comeand direct him to the pages with which she had been most delighted. Shefound him looking at Jacob's dream on the one side, the Ascension on theother.

  'How marvellous it is!' she said. 'It is like the very light from thesky!'

  'Light from heaven,' said the King; 'Jacob has found it among thestones. Wandering and homelessness are his first step in the ladder toheaven!'

  'Ah, sir, did you say that to comfort and hearten us?' said Eleanor.

  There was a strange look in the startled blue eyes that met hers. 'Nay,truly, lady, I presumed not so far! I was but wondering whether thosewho are born to have all the world are in the way of the stair toheaven.'

  Meantime the King of Wight had made his request for the presence ofthe ladies at a supper at Warwick House, and Jean, clasping her hands,implored her uncle to consent.

  'I am sure our mother cannot be the better for our being thus mewed up,'she cried, 'and I'll rise at prime, and tell my beads for her.'

  She looked so pretty and imploring that the old man's heart was melted,all the more that the King was paying more attention to the book and thefar less beautiful Eleanor, than to her and the invitation was accepted.

  The convent bell rang for nones, and the King joined the devotions ofthe nuns, though he was not admitted within the choir; and just asthese were over, the Countess of Salisbury arrived to take the Lady ofGlenuskie to see their old friend, the Mother Clare at St. Katharine's,bringing a sober palfrey for her conveyance.

  'A holy woman, full of alms-deeds,' said the King. 'The lady is happy inher friendship.'

  Which words were worth much to Lady Drummond, for the Prioress sent alay-sister to invite Mother Clare to a refection at the convent.