slender,
dark, thoughtful representative of the Goldsmiths' Company, to whom she
talked with courtesy such as Malcolm had scorned to show his city dame.

'Who,' said Esclairmonde, presently, 'was a dame in a religious garb whom
I marked near the door here? She hooked like one of the Beguines of my
own country.'

'We have no such order here, lady,' said the goldsmiths, puzzled.

'Hey, Master Price,' cried Mistress Bolt, speaking across Malcolm, 'I can
tell the lady who it was. 'Twas good Sister Avice Rodney, to whom the
Lady Mayoress promised some of these curious cooling drinks for the poor
shipwright who hath well-nigh cloven off his own foot with his axe.'

'Yea, truly,' returned the goldsmith; 'it must have been one of the
bedeswomen of St. Katharine's whom the lady has seen.'

'What order may that be?' asked Esclairmonde. 'I have seen nothing so
like my own country since I came hither.'

'That may well be, madam,' said Mistress Belt, 'seeing that these
bedeswomen were first instituted by a countrywoman of your own--Queen
Philippa, of blessed memory.'

'By your leave, Mistress Bolt,' interposed Master Price, 'the hospital of
St. Katharine by the Tower is of far older foundation.'

'By _your_ leave, sir, I know what I say. The hospital was founded I
know not when, but these bedeswomen were especially added by the good
Queen, by the same token that mine aunt Cis, who was tirewoman to the
blessed Lady Joan, was one of the first.'

'How was it? What is their office?' eagerly inquired Esclairmonde. And
Mistress Bolt arranged herself for a long discourse.

'Well, fair sirs and sweet lady, though you be younger than I, you have
surely heard of the Black Death. Well named was it, for never was
pestilence more dire; and the venom was so strong, that the very lips and
eyelids grew livid black, and then there was no hope. Little thought of
such disease was there, I trow, in kings' houses, and all the fair young
lords and ladies, the children of King Edward, as then was, were full of
sport and gamesomeness as you see these dukes be now. And never a one
was blither than the Lady Joan--she they called Joan of the Tower, being
a true Londoner born--bless her! My aunt Cis would talk by the hour of
her pretty ways and kindly mirth. But 'twas even as the children have
the game in the streets--

"There come three knights all out of Spain,
Are come to fetch your daughter Jane."

'Twas for the King of Casti