Grisly Grisell

holy house

with her save

Idylls o

nd cheek. She used to moan now and then "Don't take me away!" or cower in terror, "She is coming!" being her cry, or sometimes "So foul and loathly." She hung again between life and death, and most o

e had come when the Nevils must perforce quit Amesbury. Grisell was in no state for a long journey; she was exceedingly weak, and as fast as one wound in h

the good Countess, and she could not always be with the sufferer, nor could she carry such a patient to Londo

Richard Beauchamp, who had been translated from his former see at Hereford on

m, and to arrange with him for his reception and installation. It was then that the Countess heard that there was a nun at Wilto

he lady made this an opportunity of riding to the convent on her way back, consulting the Abbess, whom she had long k

their own domains; the Countess owned half Wiltshire, and was much loved

ll Dacre of Whitburn, or any other whom my Lady Countess would entrust to

age of those days was called, was actually being prepared, and then she went to the chamber where the poor child had spent f

m going to take thee to a kind and holy dame who will, I trust, with

nd me away!" cried Grisell

is to go back with her brother to her father the Duke. Thou couldst not

e mewed up there and never come forth again! Do no

the happiest, of the poor blighted girl, but she only told her that there was no reason sh

red to make much resistance to elders in those days, and especially not to the Countess, so Grisell, a very poor

Mine own beauteous pouncet box, with the forge

o hope to meet again, and can write letters constantly, but with tearful eyes and

ssing the wonderful stones of Amesbury-a wider circle than even Stonehenge, though without the triliths, i.e. the stones laid one over the tops of the other two like a doorway. Grisell heard some thing murmured about Merlin and Arthur a

in an arched gate kept by a stout porter, and thus far came the whirlicote and the Countess's attendants; but a lay porteress, in a cap and veil and black dress, came out to receive

t stood the Lady Abbess, at the head of all her sisters, drawn up in double lin

eamed if she had been a little stronger and less tired, for illness and weakness had brought back the babyish horror of anything black; but she felt

ces bent over her, one arm round her, the other giving her the spoon of some cordial. She looked up and even smiled, though it was a sad contorted smile, which brought a tear into the good sister's eyes; but then she fell asleep, and only half awoke when the Coun

father's safety at Agincourt. She had been placed at Wilton when almost a baby, and had never gone farther from it than on very rare occasions to the Cathedral at Salisbury; but she had grown up with a wonderful instinct for nursing and healing, and had a curio

dreamily thought, like a finger pointing upwards. Nearer were several more narrow windows along the side of the room, and that beside her bed had the lattice open, so that she saw a sloping green bank, with a river at the foot; and there was a trim garden between. Opposite to her there seemed to be another window with a curtain drawn across it, through which came what perhaps had wakened her, a low, clear

quite content, except that the wound on her neck felt stiff and dry; and by and by when the chanting ceased, the kind nun, with a lay sister, came

"I thought thou wouldst sleep till the vespers were ended. Now le

ice's touch was as soft and soothing as were her words, and the ointme

It was a milk posset far more nicely flavoured than what she had been used to at Amesbury, where, in spite of the Countess's kindness, the master cook had grown tired of any special ser

telling her that she should sleep beside her, and that she would hear the voices of the sisters singing in the chapel their mat