Hubert’s conjecture proved right. The wall bounded the convent-garden, which was laid out in the stiff fashion of the time--long winding walks, bordered with box, beds of various kinds of herbs, an oval grass-plat with a sun-dial in the centre, some fruit-trees and flowering shrubs scattered about, peach-trees fastened to the sunny side of the wall, and a bower. All this was sufficiently new and pretty to have interested Geoffrey; but he scarcely noticed it now, for his attention was immediately attracted by a figure approaching down a long wall that ended directly in front of the window. It was that of a young girl apparently near his own age, neither very tall nor remarkably graceful in her movements; but there was nothing plebeian in the delicate hand and foot, or in the carriage of the small, well-shaped head. She was well-dressed, according to the fashion of the time, in fine dark green cloth, with a cloak of brown camlet, and hood of the same; but the latter was now thrown back, exposing a goodly quantity of chestnut-brown hair, partly escaping from the crimson snood which confined it; for the same sharp wind which had given her cheeks their glowing color, had been mischief-making with her morning toilet. There was good-natured firmness in the lines about her mouth, and mirth mingled with thoughtfulness in her large blue eyes. Her voice, as she tried to coax a little robin to approach her, had that musical sweetness which is so very attractive, to some even more fascinating than decided personal beauty. "Come hither, little frightened thing," she said, as the bird, alarmed at her advance, hopped behind a bush, and seemed about to take flight for a still safer place of refuge. "Dost thou think _I_ would make thee a prisoner, pretty creature, I who know so well what it is to pant and sigh for liberty--I, who would give all I possess to be able to fly over these high walls as thou canst, and be away to dear old Estly Court? I would but touch thee, and smooth that soft breast of thine; nay, do not go away, even if I may not come closer, for I must talk to thee awhile. Oh! but this is such a dreary place; and, birdie, thou art the only living thing that I can talk to as I please: and talk I must, for I am wearied to death with this stillness. Nearer now, a little nearer, and here is some of my breakfast for thee; I venture to say thou wilt find but scanty fare here even for thy small appetite." The bird hopped closer to her as she scattered the crumbs of bread, growing bolder at every mouthful, and its benefactress continued: "O birdie! I wonder if that Father above, who, they say, sees even a sparrow that falls, has forgotten the lonely prisoner in Our Lady’s Convent, and never means to take her back to home and Guy, and mamma; and I wonder if He is ever coming to set all of us free through all dear England again?" "The Lord tarrieth, but He is surely coming," said Geoffrey from his window.