What I then beheld was a poor pallet, but ill covered with a thin coverlet, whereon lay a pale, weak woman, that seemed full ill at ease, yet I thought scarce so much sick of body as sick at heart and faint with fasting and sorrow. At the end of the pallet sat a child something elder than Iolande, but a child still. There was no form in the chamber, but Hilda brought forward an old box, whereon she cast a clean apron, praying me to sit, and to pardon them that this should be the best they had to offer. I sat me down, making no matter thereof, for in very deed I was full of pity for these poor creatures. The mother, as was but like, took me for Dame Elizabeth, and began to thank me for having paid my debts--at long last, she might have said. But afore I could gainsay it, Hilda saith warmly-- "Oh no, Mother! This is not the lady that ought the money. Madame here is good--so good! and that lady--she has no heart in her, I think." "Not very good, Hilda," said I, laughing, "when I fell on the dame that ought thee the money, and fairly wrenched it from her, whether she would or no. Howbeit," I continued to the poor woman, "_I_ will be good to you, if I can." By bits and scraps I pulled her story forth of her mouth. It was no uncommon tale: a sickly wife and a selfish husband,--a deserted, struggling wife and mother--and then a penniless widow, with no friends and poor health, that could scant make shift to keep body and soul together, whether for herself or the children. The husband had come home at last but to be a burden and sorrow--to be nursed through a twelve months' sickness and then to die; and what with the weariness and lack of all comfort, the poor widow fell sick herself soon after, and Hilda, the young maid, had kept matters a-going, as best she might, ever sithence. I comforted the poor thing to my little power; told her that I would give Hilda some work to do (and pay her for it), and that I would come and see her by times whilst the Queen should abide in Paris; but that when she went away must I go likewise, and it might be all suddenly, that I could not give her to wit. Hilda had sent the children forth to buy food, and there were but her and her mother. Mine husband was longer in return than I looked for. "My maid," said I to Hilda, "prithee tell me a thing. What didst thou signify by saying to thyself, right as we set forth from the Palace, that God must have heard thee?" A great wave of colour passed over her face and neck. "Dame," she said, "I will speak soothliness. It was partly because I had prayed for money to buy food and physic: but partly also, because I was afraid of something, and I had asked the good God to keep it away from me. When you said that you and Messire would condescend to come with me, it delivered me from my fear. The good God must have heard me, for nobody else knew."