ment at every castle, and then a
long delay at Canterbury to give time for Suffolk's retainers, and all
the heralds, pursuivants, and other adjuncts of pomp and splendour, to
join them. They were the guests of Archbishop Stafford, one of the peace
party, and a friend of Beaufort and Suffolk, so that their entertainment
was costly and magnificent, as befitted the mediaeval notions of a
high-born gentleman, Primate of all England. A great establishment for
the chase was kept by almost all prelates as a necessity; and whenever
the weather was favourable, hunting and hawking could be enjoyed by
the princesses and their suite. Indeed Jean, if not in the saddle, was
pretty certain to be visiting the hawks all the morning, or else playing
at ball or some other sport with her cousins or some of the young
gentlemen of Suffolk's train, who were all devoted to her.

Lady Drummond found that to try to win her to quieter occupations was in
vain. The girl would not even try to learn French from Father Romuald
by reading, though she would pick up words and phrases by laughing and
chattering with the young knights who chanced to know the language.
But as by this time Dame Lilias had learnt that there were bounds that
princely pride and instinct prevented from overpassing, she contented
herself with seeing that there was fit attendance, either by her
daughter Annis, Sir Patrick himself, or one or other of Lady Suffolk's
ladies.

To some degree Eleanor shared in her sister's outdoor amusements, but
she was far more disposed to exercise her mind than her body.
After having pined in weariness for want of intellectual food, her
opportunities were delightful to her. Not only did she read with Father
Romuald with intense interest the copy of the bon Sire Jean Froissart in
the original, which he borrowed from the Archbishop's library, but
she listened with great zest to the readings which the Lady of Suffolk
extracted from her chaplains and unwilling pages while the ladies sat
at work, for the Marchioness, a grandchild of Geoffrey Chaucer, had a
strong taste for literature. Moreover, from one of the choir Eleanor
obtained lessons on the lute, as well as her beloved harp, and was
taught to train her voice, and sing from 'pricke-song,' so that she much
enjoyed this period of her journey.

Nothing could be more courteous and punctilious than the Marquis of
Suffolk to the two princesses, and indeed to every one of his own
degree; but there was