you. And now?'

'Now I remain with my lady, as the only demoiselle she has from her
country; and, moreover, I am waiting in the trust that my kinsmen will
give up their purpose of bestowing me in marriage, now that I am beyond
their reach; and in time I hope to obtain sufficient of my own goods for
a dowry for whatever convent I may enter.'

'Oh, let it be an English one!' cried Alice.

'I have learnt to breathe freer since I have been on English soil,' said
Esclairmonde, smiling; 'but where I may rest at last, Heaven only knows!'

'This is a strange country,' said Malcolm. 'No one seems afraid of
violence and wrong here.'

'Is that so strange?' asked Alice, amazed. 'Why, men would be hanged if
they did violence!'

'I would we were as sure of justice at my home,' sighed Esclairmonde.
'King Henry will bring about a better rule.'

'Never doubt,' cried Salisbury's daughter. 'When France is once subdued,
there will be no more trouble, he will make your kinsmen do you right,
dear demoiselle, and oh! will you not found a beauteous convent?'

'King Henry has not conquered France yet,' was all Esclairmonde said.

'Ha!' cried the buxom Countess Jaqueline, as the ladies dismounted,
'never speak to me more, our solemn sister. When have I done worse than
lure a young cavalier, and chain him all day with my tongue?'

'He is a gentle boy!' said Esclairmonde, smiling.

'Truly he looked like a calf turned loose among strange cattle! How gat
he into the hall?'

'He is of royal Scottish blood,' said Esclairmonde 'cousin-german to King
James.'

'And our grave nun has a fancy to tame the wild Scots, like a second St.
Margaret! A king's grandson! fie, fie! what, become ambitious,
Clairette? Eh? you were so occupied, that I should have been left to no
one but Monseigneur of Gloucester, but that I was discreet, and rode with
my Lord Bishop of Winchester. How he chafed! but I know better than to
have _tete-a-tetes_ with young sprigs of the blood royal!'

Esclairmonde laughed good-humouredly, partly in courtesy to her hoyden
mistress, but partly at the burning, blushing indignation she beheld in
the artless face of Alice Montagu.

The girl was as shy as a fawn, frightened at every word from knight or
lady, and much in awe of her future mother-in-law, a stiff and stately
dame, with all the Beaufort haughtiness; so that Lady Westmoreland gladly
and graciously consented to the offer of the Demoiselle de Luxemburg to
atte