For a few days he came and went: but scarce more than a sennight had passed ere I learned that he had come to dwell in Paris all out; and but little more time was spent when one even, Dame Isabel de Lapyoun came into our chamber as we were about to hie us abed, and saith she, speaking to none in especial, but to all-- "Sir Roger de Mortimer is made of the Prince's following, and shall as to-morrow take up his abode in the Queen's hostel." "Dear heart!" saith Dame Elizabeth, making pause with one hand all wet, and in the other the napkin whereon she went about to dry it. "Well, no business of mine, trow." I could not help to cry, "_Ha, chetife_!" Dame Isabel made answer to neither the one nor the other, but marched forth of the door with her nose an inch higher than she came in. She was appointed to the pallet for that night, so we three lay all in our chamber. "This passeth!" saith Dame Elizabeth, drying of her fingers, calm enough, on the napkin. "Even as I looked for," saith Dame Joan, but her voice was not so calm. There was in it a note of grief [a tone of indignation]. "_I_ ne'er trouble me to look for nought," quoth Dame Elizabeth. "What good, trow? Better to leave folks come and go, as they list, so long as they let [hinder] you not to come and go likewise." "I knew not you were one of Cain's following, Dame Bess." "Cain's following!" saith she, drawing off her fillet. "Who was Cain, trow? Wala wa! but if my fillet be not all tarnished o' this side. I would things would go right!" "So would I, and so did not Cain," Dame Joan makes answer. "Who was he, quotha? Why, he that slew his brother Abel." "Oh, some of those old Scripture matters? I wis nought o' those folks. But what so? I have not slain my brother, nor my sister neither." "It looks as though your brother and your sister too might go astray and be lost ere you should soil your fingers and strain your arms a-pulling them forth." "Gramercy! Every man for himself!" saith Dame Elizabeth, a-pulling off her hood. "Now, here's a string come off! Alway my luck! If a body might but bide in peace--" "And never have no troubles, nor strings come off, nor buttons broke, nor stitches come loose--" adds Dame Joan, a-laughing. "Right so--man might have a bit of piece of man's life, then. Why, look you, the string is all chafen, that it is not worth setting on anew; and so much as a yard of red ribbon have I not. I must needs don my hood of green of Louvaine." She said it in a voice which might have gone with the direst calamity that could befall. "Dame Elizabeth de Mohun, you be a full happy woman!" "What will the woman say next?" "That somewhat hangeth on what you may next say." "Well, what I next say is that I am full ill-used to have in one hour a tarnished fillet and a broken string, and--Saint Lucy love us! here be two of my buttons gone!"