churches that were never quite out of sight, though there
were some open fields and wild country ere coming to Westminster, all as
if she did not see them, but was wrapped in deep contemplation.

Alice at last, weary of silence, stole her arm round her waist, and
peeped up into her face. 'May I guess thy thoughts, sweet Clairette?
Thou wilt found such a hospice thyself?'

'Say not I _will_, child,' said Esclairmonde, with a crystal drop
starting in each dark eye. 'I would strive and hope, but--'

'Ah! thou wilt, thou wilt,' cried Alice; 'and since there are Beguines
enough for their own Netherlands, thou wilt come to England and be our
foundress here.'

'Nay, little one; here are the bedeswomen of St. Katharine's in London.'

'Ah! but we have other cities. Good Father, have we not?
Hull--Southampton--oh! so many, where poor strangers come that need
ghostly tendance as well as bodily. Esclairmonde--Light of the World--oh!
it was not for nothing that they gave thee that goodly name. The hospice
shall bear it!'

'Hush, hush! sweet pyet; mine own name is what they must not bear.'

'Ah! but the people will give it; and our Holy Father the Pope, he will
put thee into the canon of saints. Only pity that I cannot live to hear
of Ste. Esclairmonde--nay, but then I must overlive thee, mind I should
not love that.'

'Oh, silence, silence, child; these are no thoughts to begin a work with.
Little flatterer, it may be well for me that our lives must needs lie so
far apart that I shall not oft hear that fond silly tongue.'

'Nay,' said Alice, in the luxury, not of castle-building but of convent-
building; 'it may be that when that knight over there sees me so small
and ill-favoured he will none of me, and then I'll thank him so, and pray
my father to let him have all my lands and houses except just enough to
dower me to follow thee with, dear Lady Prioress.'

But here Alice was summarily silenced. Such talk, both priest and
votaress told her, was not meet for dutiful daughter or betrothed maiden.
Her lot was fixed, and she must do her duty therein as the good wife and
lady of the castle, the noble English matron; and as she looked half
disposed to pout, Esclairmonde drew such a picture of the beneficent
influence of the good baronial dame, ruling her castle, bringing up her
children and the daughters of her vassals in good and pious nurture,
making 'the heart of her husband safely trust in her,' benefiting the
poor,