Now that the truce is concluded, all is peaceful and happy. It is so nice, after the tumult, and suspense, and anxiety, to have nothing to think of but what robe one shall wear to this feast, and how one shall arrange one’s jewels for that dance. I wish it would last for ever!—if only one did not get tired even of pleasant things, when they have gone on for a while. If one could get hold of some pleasure of which one never got tired! I want to introduce our national dance of Poitou, the minuet. I have taught it to Lady Isabel, and two or three of the damsels in waiting: and Perette and Bertrade will help. Lady Isabel admires it very much; she says it is a grand, stately dance, and fit for a princess. It seems very odd to me, that the ladies of this country look upon it as beneath them to superintend the cooking, and leave it all to their servants. How strange it would be if we did that in Poitou! They order what is to be done, but they never put their own hands to the work. I know what Alix would look like, if I told her. The first banquet was to have been on Monday, but it is an unlucky day, as the moon will be in opposition to Mars; so it had to be deferred. We heard yesterday that the Countess of Edessa actually gave a banquet last week on a vigil, and what should she do but invite just enough to make thirteen! I suppose she never thought about either. She is the most thoughtless woman I ever saw. Messire de Montluc was one of the guests, and when he perceived the calamity, he feigned to bleed at the nose, and asked leave to retire. I suppose he did not wish to run the risk of dying within a year and a day. How can people be so careless? Why, it is almost as bad as murder. *CHAPTER XII.* _*WILL SHE GIVE HIM UP?*_ _Elmina_.—We can bear all things! _Gonsalez_.—Can ye bear disgrace? _Ximena_.—We were not born for this. —FELICIA HEMANS. I suppose it is only about thirty hours, yet it looks as if it might be as many weeks, since I sat in the bower with Lady Judith, broidering a mantle of cramoisie for Lady Sybil. We were talking of different things, carrying on no special train of conversation. Lady Sybil had been with us; but, a few minutes before, Guy had called her into the hall, to assist in receiving a messenger just arrived with letters from the Regent. Something which Lady Judith said amused me, and I was making a playful reply, when all at once there broke on us, from the hall, such a bitter, wailing cry, as instantly told us that something terrible must have happened. The mantle was dropped upon the rushes, and Lady Judith and I were both in the hall in an instant. The messenger, a young knight, stood at the further side of the daïs, where were Guy and Lady Sybil. She had apparently fainted, or was very near it, and he was holding her in his arms, and endeavouring to whisper comfort.