ud; and had I
been she, the maid should have been called aught else it liked my baron,
but not that."

Ah, but had I been he, thought Clarice, it should have been just that!

"And I have heard," said the Dame, biting off her thread, "that there
should of old time be some misliking--what I know not--betwixt the Lady
Margaret and her baron; but whether it were some olden love of his part
or of hers, or what so, I cast no doubt that she hath long ere this
overlived the same, and is now a good and loving lady unto him, as is
meet."

Clarice felt disposed to cast very much doubt on this suggestion. She
held the old-fashioned idea that a true heart could love but once, and
could not forget. Her vivid imagination instantly erected an exquisite
castle in the air, wherein the chief part was played by the Lady
Margaret's youthful lover--a highly imaginary individual, of the most
perfect manners and unparalleled beauty, whom the unfortunate maiden
could never forget, though she was forced by her cruel parents to marry
the Earl of Cornwall. He, of course, was a monster of ugliness in
person, and of everything disagreeable in character, as a man in such
circumstances was bound to be.

Poor Clarice! she had not seen much of the world. Her mental picture of
the lady whom she was to serve depicted her as sweet and sorrowful, with
a low plaintive voice and dark, starry, pathetic eyes, towards whom the
only feelings possible would be loving reverence and sympathy.

"And now, Clarice, I have another thing to say."

"At your pleasure, Dame."

"I think it but meet to tell thee a thing I have heard from thy father--
that the Lord Edmund, Earl of Cornwall, thy lady's baron, is one that
hath some queer ideas in his head. I know not well what kind they are;
but folk say that he is a strange man and hath strange talk. So do thou
mind what thou dost. Alway be reverent to him, as is meet; but suffer
him not to talk to thee but in presence of thy lady."

Clarice felt rather frightened--all the more so from the extreme
vagueness of the warning.

"And now lap up thy sewing, child, for I see thy father coming in, and
we will go down to hall."

A few weeks later three horses stood ready saddled at the door of Sir
Gilbert's house. One was laden with luggage; the second was mounted by
a manservant; and the third, provided with saddle and pillion, was for
Clarice and her father. Sir Gilbert, fully armed, mounted his steed,
Clarice wa