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 

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