only blame that could be laid to her was her silence for a few days as
to the little she knew. Of this crime Lady Foljambe made the most.

"Now, Avena," said the Countess, as peremptorily as her languor
permitted, "hearken me, and be no more of a fool than thou canst help.
If thou turn away a quiet, steady, decent maid, of good birth and
conditions, for no more than a little lack of courage, or maybe of
judgment--and thou art not a she-Solomon thyself, as I give thee to wit,
but thou art a fearsome thing to a young maid when thou art angered; and
unjust anger is alway harder, and sharper, and fierier than the just, as
if it borrowed a bit of Satan, from whom it cometh--I say, if thou turn
her away for this, thou shalt richly deserve what thou wilt very like
get in exchange--to wit, a giddy-pate that shall blurt forth all thy
privy matter (and I am a privy matter, as thou well wist), or one of
some other ill conditions, that shall cost thee an heartbreak to rule.
Now beware, and be wise. And if it need more, then mind thou"--and the
tone grew regal--"that Amphillis Neville is my servant, not thine, and
that I choose not she be removed from me. I love the maid; she hath
sense, and she is true to trust; and though that keeps me in prison, yet
can I esteem it when known. 'Tis a rare gift. Now go, and think on
what I have said to thee."

Lady Foljambe found herself reluctantly constrained to do the Countess's
bidding, so far, at least, as the meditation was concerned. And the
calmer she grew, the more clearly she saw that the Countess was right.
She did not, however, show that she felt she had been in the wrong.
Amphillis was not informed that she was forgiven, nor that she was to
retain her place, but matters were allowed to slide silently back into
their old groove. So the winter came slowly on.

"The time drew near the birth of Christ," that season of peace and
good-will to men which casts its soft sunshine even over the world,
bringing absent relatives together, and suggesting general family
amnesties. Perrote determined to make one more effort with Sir Godfrey.
About the middle of December, as that gentleman was mounting his
staircase, he saw on the landing that "bothering old woman," standing,
lamp in hand, evidently meaning to waylay some one who was going up to
bed. Sir Godfrey had little doubt that he was the destined victim, and
he growled inwardly. However, it was of no use to turn back on some
pretend