ied Dame Maisenta. "Eh, deary me! Mine head to a pod of
peas, but that's a hearing! And what time get they up of a morrow?"

"The Lady rises commonly by five or soon after."

"Saint Wulstan be our aid! Heard I ever the like? Why, I am never abed
after three!"

"So thou art become Dame Clarice?" said her father, jovially.

The smile died instantly from Clarice's lips. "Yes," she said,
drearily.

"Where is thy knight, lass?" demanded her mother.

"You will see him in hall," replied Clarice. And when they went down to
supper she presented Vivian in due form.

No one knew better than Vivian Barkeworth how to adapt himself to his
company. He measured his bride's parents as accurately, in the first
five minutes, as a draper would measure a yard of calico. It is not
surprising if they were both delighted with him.

The Countess received her guests with careless condescension, the Earl
with kind cordiality. Dame La Theyn was deeply interested in seeing
both. But her chief aim was a long _tete-a-tete_ discourse with
Clarice, which she obtained on the day following her arrival. The
Countess, as usual, had gone to visit a shrine, and Clarice, being off
duty, took her mother to the terrace, where they could chat undisturbed.

Some of us modern folks would rather shrink from sitting on an open
terrace in February; but our forefathers were wonderfully independent of
the weather, and seem to have been singularly callous in respect to heat
and cold. Dame La Theyn made no objection to the airiness of her
position, but settled herself comfortably in the corner of the stone
bench, and prepared for her chat with much gusto.

"Well, child," was the Dame's first remark, "the good saints have
ordered matters rarely for thee. I ventured not to look for such good
fortune, not so soon as this. Trust me, but I was rejoiced when I read
thy lady's letter, to hear that thou wert well wed unto a knight, and
that she had found all the gear. I warrant thee, the grass grew not
under my feet afore Dame Rouse, and Mistress Swetapple, and every woman
of our neighbours, down to Joan Stick-i'-th'-Lane, knew the good luck
that was come to thee."

Clarice sat with her hands in her lap looking out on the river. Good
luck! Could Dame La Theyn see no further than that!

"Why, lass, what is come to thee?" demanded the Dame, when she found no
response. "Sure, thou art not ungrateful to thy lady for her care and
goodness! That were