"None!" I cried, tarrying in the doffing of my subtunic. "Were you not ill angered to behold such a traitor?" "Dame Cicely," saith she, slowly pulling the loose hairs forth of the comb, "if you would take pattern by me, and leave troubling yourself touching your neighbours' doings, you should have fewer griefs to mourn over." Could the left sleeve of my subtunic, which I was then a-doffing, have spoke unto me, I am secure he should have 'plained that he met with full rough treatment at my hands. "Good for you, Dame, an' you so can!" said I somewhat of a heat. "So long as my neighbours do well, I desire not to mell [meddle] nor make in their matters. But if they do ill--" "Why, then do I desire it even less," saith she, "for I were more like to get me into a muddle. Mine own troubles be enough for me, and full too many." "Dear heart! had you ever any?" quoth I. "In very deed, I do ensure you," saith she, "for this comb hath one of his teeth split, and he doth not only tangle mine hair, but giveth me vile wrenches betimes, when I look not for them. And 'tis but a month gone, at Betesi [Bethizy], that I paid half-a-crown for him. The rogue cheated me, as my name is Bess. I could find in mine heart to give him a talking." "Only a talking?" saith Dame Joan, and laughed. "You be happy woman, in good sooth, if your worsest trouble be a comb that hath his teeth split." "Do but try him!" quoth Dame Elizabeth, and snorked [twisted, contorted] up her mouth, as the comb that instant moment came to a spot where her hair was louked [fastened] together. "Bless the comb!" saith she, and I guess she meant it but little. "Wala wa! Dame Joan, think you 'tis matter for laughter?" "More like than greeting," [weeping], she made answer. "Verily," said I, "but I see much worser matter for tears than your comb, Dame Elizabeth. Either the Queen is sore ill-usen of her brother, that such ill companions should be allowed near her, or else--" Well for me, my lace snapped at that moment, and I ended not the sentence. When I was laid down beside Dame Joan, it came to me like a flash of lightning--"Or else--what?" And at that minute Dame Joan turned her on the pillows, and set her lips to mine ear. "Dame Cicely," quoth she, "mine heart misdoubts me it is the `or else.' Pray you, govern your tongue, and use your eyes in time to come. Trust not her in the red bed too much, and her in the green-hung chamber not at all." The first was Dame Elizabeth, and the last Dame Isabel de Lapyoun, that lay in a chamber hung with green, with Dame Tiffany. I was secure she meant not the other, but to make certain I whispered the name, and she saith, "She." I reckoned it not ill counsel, for mine own thoughts assented thereto, in especial as touched Dame Isabel. After that day wherein Sir Roger de Mortimer was in the Queen's cabinet, I trow I kept mine eyes open.