e Lady Beatrice, who was a maiden of twelve years; and the Lord
Edmund, a very pretty little boy of nine; and the Lord William, who was
but four; and there were also with them other children of different ages
that were brought up with them; but only one was near our little Lady's
age, or had much to do with her. That was Alianora de Montfort,
daughter of Earl Simon of Leicester, that bold baron that headed the
lords against the King; and her mother was the King's own sister, the
Lady Alianora. She was fifteen months older than our little Lady, and
being youngest of all, the two used to play together. A sweet child she
was, too; but not like my own little Lady--there never was a child like
her."

"What was she like, Aunt?"

"Tell me what the angels are like in Heaven, and thou shalt hear then.
She is an angel now--she hath been one these three-and-twenty years.
But methinks there can have been little to change in her face when she
blossomed into a cherub, and the wings would unfold themselves from her
as by nature. Never a child like her!--no, there never was one. She
had bright, dark eyes, wonderful eyes--eyes that her whole soul shone
in, and that took in everything which passed. She spoke with her eyes;
she had no other way. The souls of other children came out of their
lips; but she had not spent many months in this lower world, before we
saw with bitter apprehension and deep sorrow that God had sealed her
sweet lips with eternal silence. She saw all; she heard nothing; she
could never speak. My darling was deaf and dumb."

"O Aunt Avice!"

"Ay, verily at times I wondered if she were indeed an angel that God had
sent down to earth, for whose pure lips our English was too rough, and
our French too rude, and who could only speak the tongue they speak in
Heaven. She went back but whence she came; we were not fit company for
her. Methinks she was sent to let our earthbound hearts have one
glimpse of that upper world; and when her work was done, her Father sent
for her back home.

"Though our little Lady could never speak, yet long before we discovered
that, we found how lively, and earnest, and intelligent she was. As I
told thee, she talked with her eyes. Nothing could be done in her
presence but she must see and know all about it. A little pull at my
gown would tell me she was there; and then I turned to see the bright
eager eyes looking into mine, and asking me as plainly as eyes could ask
to let h