d announced the hour of supper. The Earl conversed almost
cheerfully with the Prior and his head officers during supper; and
Ademar remarked to the Cellarer that he had not for a long while seen
his master so like his old self.

The first of October rose clear and bright. At Berkhamsted, the ladies
were spending the morning in examining the contents of a pedlar's
well-stocked pack, and buying silk, lawn, furs, and trimmings for the
wedding. At Ashridge, the Earl was walking up and down the Priory
garden, looking over the dilapidations which time had wrought in his
monastery, and noting on his tables sundry items in respect of which he
meant to repair the ravages. At Romsey, Mother Margaret, in her black
patched habit and up-turned sleeves, was washing out the convent
refectory, and thereby, she fervently hoped, washing her sins out of
existence--without a thought of the chivalrous love which would have set
her high above all such menial labour, and would never have permitted
even the winds of heaven to "visit her cheek too roughly." Did it never
occur to her that she might have allowed the Redeemer of men to "make
her salvation" for her, and yet have allowed herself to make her
husband's life something better to him than a weary burden?

The day's work was over, and the recreation time had come. The Prior of
Ashridge tapped at the door of the guest-chamber, and was desired to
enter.

He found the Earl turning over the leaves of his Psalter.

"Look here, Father," said the latter, pointing out the fifteenth verse
of the ninetieth Psalm.

"We are glad for the days wherein Thou didst humiliate us; the years
wherein we have seen evil."

"What does that mean?" said the Earl. "Is it that we thank God for the
afflictions He has given us? It surely does not mean--I hope not--that
our comfort is to last just as long as our afflictions have lasted, and
not a day longer."

"Ah, my Lord, God is no grudging giver," answered the Prior. "The verse
before it, methinks, will reply to your Lordship--`we exult and are glad
all our days.' All our earthly life have we been afflicted; all our
heavenly one shall we be made glad."

"Glad! I hardly know what the word means," was the pathetic reply.

"You will know it then," said the Prior.

"You will--but shall I? I have been such an unprofitable servant!"

"Nay, good my Lord, but are you going to win Heaven by your own works?"
eagerly demanded the Bonus Homo. "`Beginni