e knew well that this was how life
and she would never take each other.

Whitehall was reached at last, on that eve of Saint Botolph. Clarice
was excessively tired, and only able to judge of the noise without, and
the superb decorations and lofty rooms within. Lofty, be it remembered,
to her eyes; they would not look so to ours. She supped upon salt
merling [whiting], pease-cods [green peas], and stewed fruit, and was
not sorry to get to bed.

In the morning, she found the household considerably increased. Her
eyes were almost dazzled by the comers and goers; and she really noticed
only one person. Two young knights were among the new attendants of the
Earl, but one of them Clarice could not have distinguished from the
crowd. The other had attracted her notice by coming forward to help the
Countess from her litter, and, instead of attending his mistress
further, had, rather to Clarice's surprise, turned to help _her_. And
when she looked up to thank him, it struck her that his face was like
somebody she knew. She did not discover who it was till Roisia
observed, while the girls were undressing, that--"My cousin is growing a
beard, I declare. He had none the last time I saw him."

"Which is thy cousin?" asked Clarice.

"Why, Piers Ingham," said Roisia. "He that helped my Lady from the
litter."

"Oh, is he thy cousin?" responded Clarice.

"By the mother's side," answered Roisia. "He hath but been knighted
this last winter."

"Then he is just ready for a wife," said Elaine. "I wonder which of us
it will be! It is tolerably sure to be one. I say, maids, I mean to
have a jolly time of it while we are here! It shall go hard with me if
I do not get promoted to be one of the Queen's bower-women!"

"Oh, would I?" interpolated Diana.

"Why?" asked more than one voice.

"I am sure," said Olympias, "I had ever so much rather be under the Lady
Queen than our Lady."

"Oh, that may be," said Diana. "I was not looking at it in that light.
There is some amusement in deceiving our Lady, and one doesn't feel it
wrong, because she is such a vixen; but there would be no fun in taking
in the Queen, she's too good."

"I wonder what Father Bevis would say to that doctrine," demurely
remarked Elaine. "What it seems to mean is, that a lie is not such a
bad thing if you tell it to a bad person as it would be if you told it
to a good one. Now I doubt if Father Bevis would be quite of that
opinion."

"Don't talk