The White Rose of Langley Part 8

Thurstan, with a relieved air, subsided into his recess, and Alvena, with a rather abashed one, began to explain that no ermine could be had for the tr.i.m.m.i.n.g of the blue satin dress.

"Then let it wait," decided the Mistress--for this was Juana's official t.i.tle. "Alvena, set the child a-work, and watch that she goeth rightly thereabout. Sybil, sue thou me."

The departure of Juana and Sybil, for which Maude was privately rather sorry, set Alvena's tongue again at liberty. She set Maude at work, on a long hem, which was not particularly interesting; and herself began to pin some tr.i.m.m.i.n.g on a tunic of scarlet cloth.

"Pray you, Mistress Alvena," asked Maude at length--wedging her question in among a quant.i.ty of small-talk--"hath the Lady Custance brethren or sustren?"

"Sustren, not one; and trust me, child, an' thou knewest her as I do, thou shouldst say one of her were enough. But she hath brethren twain-- the Lord Edward, which is her elder, and the Lord Richard, her younger.

The little Lord Richard is a sweet child as may lightly be seen; and dearly the Lady Custance loveth him. But as for the Lord Edward--an' he can do an ill turn, trust him for it."

"And what like is my Lord our master?" asked Maude.

Alvena laughed. "Sawest ever Ursula Drew bake bread, child?"

"Oh ay!" sighed the ex-scullery-maid.

"And hast marked how the dough, ere he be set in the oven, should take any pattern thou list to set him on?"

"Ay."

"Then thou hast seen what the Lord Earl is like."

"But who setteth pattern on the Lord Earl?" inquired Maude, looking up in some surprise.

"All the world, saving my Lady his wife, and likewise in his wrath.

Hast ever seen one of our Princes in a pa.s.sion of ire?"

"Never had I luck yet to see one of their Graces," said Maude reverently.

"Then thou wist not what a man _can_ be like when he is angered."

"But not, I ensure me, the Lady Custance!" objected Maude, loth to surrender her Fairy Queen.

"Wait awhile and see!" was the ominous answer.

"Methought she were sweet and fair as my Lady her mother," said Maude in a disappointed tone.

"'Sweet and fair'!--and soft, is my Lady Countess. Why, child, she should hardly say this kirtle were red, an' Dame Joan told her it were green. Thou mayest do aught with her, an' thou wist how to take her."

"How take you her?" demanded Maude gravely.

"By 'r Lady! have yonder fond [foolish] books of the Lutterworth parson at thy tongue's end, and make up a sad face, and talk of faith and grace and forgiving of sins and the like, and mine head to yon shred of tinsel an' she give thee not a gown within the se'nnight."

"But, Mistress Alvena! that were to be an hypocrite, an' you felt it not."

"Hu-te-tu! We be all hypocrites. Some of us feign for one matter, and some for other. I wis somewhat thereabout, child; for ere I came hither was I maid unto the Lady Julian [a fict.i.tious person], recluse of Tamworth Priory. By our dear Lady her girdle! saw I nothing of hypocrisy there!"

"You never signify, Mistress, that the blessed recluse was an hypocrite?"

"The blessed recluse was mighty fond of sweetbreads," said Alvena, taking a pin out of her mouth, "and many an one smuggled I in to her under my cloak, when Father Luke thought she was a-fasting on bread and water. And one clereful [glorious] night had we, she and I, when one that I knew had shot me a brace of curlews, and coming over moorland by the church, he dropped them--all by chance, thou wist!--by the door of the cell. And I, oping the door--to see if it rained, trow!--found these birds a-lying there. Had we no supper that night!--and 'twas a vigil even. The blessed martyr or apostle (for I mind me not what day it were) forgive us!"

"But how dressed you them?" said Maude.

Alvena stopped in her fitting and pinning to laugh.

"Thou sely maid! The sacristan was my mother's brother."

Maude looked up as if she did not see the inference.

"I roasted them in the sacristy, child. The priests were all gone home to bed; and so soon as the ground were clear, mine uncle rapped of the door; and the Lady Julian came after me to the sacristy, close lapped in my cloak--"

How long Alvena might have proceeded to shock Maude's susceptibilities and outrage her preconceived opinions, it is impossible to say; for at this moment Thurstan opened the door and announced in a rather consequential manner--

"The Lord Le Despenser, to visit the Lady Custance, and Dame Margaret his sister."

Maude lifted her eyes to the height of Alvena, and found that she had to lower them to her own. A young lady of about sixteen entered, dressed in a rose-coloured silk striped with gold, and a gold-coloured mantle lined with the palest blue. She led by the hand a very pretty little boy of ten or eleven years of age, attired in a velvet tunic of that light, bright shade of apple-green which our forefathers largely used.

It was edged at the neck by a little white frill. He carried in his hand a black velvet cap, from which depended a long and very full red plume of ostrich feathers. His stockings were white silk, his boots red leather, fastened with white b.u.t.tons. The brother and sister were alike, but the small, delicately-cut features of both were the more delicate in the boy, and on his dark brown hair was a golden gloss which was not visible on that of his sister.

"Give you good morrow, Mistress Alvena," said Dame Margaret pleasantly.

"The Lady Custance--may one have speech of her?"

Before Alvena could reply, the curtain which shrouded the door leading to the Countess's rooms was drawn aside, and Constance came forward herself.

"Good morrow, Meg," said she, kissing the young lady. "Thou hast mistaken thy road, Tom."

"Wherefore so?" asked Dame Margaret; for her little brother was silent, except that he offered a kiss in his turn, and looked rather disconcerted when no notice was taken of it.

"Why, Ned is playing quoits below, and Tom should have bidden with him.

Come hither, Meg; I have a pretty thing to show thee."

"But Tom came to see your Ladys.h.i.+p."

"Well, he has seen me!" said the little Princess impatiently. "I love not lads. They are fit for nought better than playing quoits. Let them go and do it."

"What, d.i.c.kon?" said Margaret, smiling.

"Oh, d.i.c.kon!" returned Constance in a changed tone. "But Tom is not d.i.c.kon. Neither is he an angel, I wis, for I heard him gainsay once his preceptor."

Tom looked very unhappy at this raking up of bygone misdeeds.

"Methinks your Ladys.h.i.+p is in ill humour this morrow," said Margaret.

"Be not so hard on the lad, for he loveth you."

"When I love him, I will do him to wit," said Constance cuttingly.

"Come, Meg."

Dame Margaret obeyed the command, but she kept hold of the hand of her little brother. When they were gone, Alvena laid down her work and laughed.