"'All armed I ride, whate'er betide,
Until I find the Holy Grail.'"

"Yes, the Sangreal, or the Quest. It does not matter what, for it was
only an allegory," returned Nan, who had plenty of ideas, only she
confused them sometimes, and was not as clever in her definitions as
Phillis. "It only meant that those grand old knights had some holy
purpose and aim in their lives, for which they trained and toiled and
fought. Don't you see?--the meaning is quite clear. We can have our
Quest too."

"Bless her dear heart, if she is not travelling thousands of years and
miles from Mrs. Trimmings!" exclaimed Phillis, who never could be
serious long. "Well, Nannie, I understand you, though you are a trifle
vague. We will have our Quest and our unattainable standard; and I
will be your maiden knight--yours and Dulce's.

"'How sweet are looks that ladies bend
On whom their favors fall!
For them I'll battle till the end,
To save from shame and thrall.'"

And when she had repeated this she rose, laughing, and said they were
all a little demented; and what did they mean by wasting their time
when there were three dresses to be cut out? and Dulce must have the
work fixed for the sewing-machine.

For the next hour there was little talk, only the snipping sound of
scissors and the rustling of silken breadths, and sometimes the swish
and the tearing of sundry materials, and then the whirring and burning
and tappings of Dulce's sewing machine, like a dozen or two of
woodpeckers at work on an iron tree. And no one quoted any more
poetry, for prose was heaped up everywhere about them, and their heads
were full of business.

But in the afternoon, when things were in progress and looked
promising, and Mrs. Challoner had had her nap, and was busy over some
sleeves that they had given her to keep her quiet and satisfy her
maternal conscience that she was helping her girls, Phillis did hear a
little about Miss Drummond's visit. The sewing machine, which they
worked by turns, had stopped for a time, and they were all three round
the table, sewing and fixing as busily as possible: and Phillis,
remembering Sir Galahad, dared not say she was tired, only she looked
out on the lengthening shadows with delight, and thought about tea and
an evening walk just to stretch her cramped muscles. And if one day
seemed so long, how would a week of days appear before t