which Lady Rosamond long ago told me he bore among his companions, and which, methinks, he well deserves. Think you not, dear mother, he might be counted worthy to go in quest of the Holy Grail?" Lady Bryn Afon looked searchingly at her daughter, as she answered with a smile; "Indeed the real Sir Galahad can scarce to my thinking have worn a more holy countenance, or led a more blameless life than our young chaplain, for whom I have a very high regard and esteem. Did you ever note, Primrose, what beauty those long and dark eyelashes add to his face--such lashes as babes and maidens often boast, but which are a rare feature of masculine beauty? There is a pretty story told of this peculiar feature of his countenance." "Prithee tell it me, sweet mother," said Primrose, hiding her face in her long golden tresses, which her mother's fingers had unbound and let fall in glittering showers around the slender form nestling against her knee. "Percival's mother, the beautiful Lady Enid Ap Gryffyth," said Lady Bryn Afon, "was from her early childhood gifted with a singularly pure and religious tone of mind, and in very early girlhood resolved to devote herself wholly to good works, and never to marry, lest, as the Apostle Paul saith, she should be counted as one of those whose care is rather to please their husbands than their Lord, which thought her holy mind and affections could not bear to contemplate. But ere she had been long returned from the convent where she had been educated, it so befell that she was bidden to visit the mother of the sainted Master George Herbert, who had been her own mother's dearest friend during the years of her sojourn at Montgomery Castle, and who, though now a second time married and dwelling in other parts, ever retained a warm affection for the Countess Ap Gryffyth and her beautiful daughter, the latter having been born in the same year as her son George, and having been his infant playmate. This lady was, at the time of the Lady Enid's visit to her, spending some few weeks in Oxford, where she had resided for some years after leaving her Welsh castle, and previous to her second marriage, and where she had many friends, among whom none were more welcome nor more frequent guests in her house than our dear chaplain's father, younger son of the renowned Vere, Earl of Oxford, then a scholar of Christ Church, and reading for Holy Orders. He was, although some few years older than her son George, who was then a student of Trinity College, Cambridge, one of his most attached friends, and withal a man of singular grace and virtue, not to speak of much beauty of countenance, and it was not long ere a deep and true affection sprang up in his heart for the fair and gracious Welsh maiden; and she, against her most earnest convictions, likewise fell deeply in love with him, and at last, unable to resist his pleadings and her own warm affection, together with the great desire of her