Everything was planned with all secrecy and Aline was not told about it till two days before, when a number of persons arrived to put the old place into order. The old rooms were thrown open and cleaned, the arras, that had been sold, was temporarily replaced by other fine specimens. Sconces with hundreds of candles were brought and the floor and the furniture and the metalwork was polished till all shone like a mirror. The old heirlooms, including the magnificent nef[29] and other gold and silver plate, which Ian could not sell, but which had been put away, were brought out. [29] A gold or silver centre piece for the table made in the shape of a ship. The beautiful old castle had never looked finer. Serving men and maids, pleasantly attired, were everywhere at hand. There was a new costume for every one. Ian’s was of very simple material, but he looked wonderfully handsome when he met Aline on the morning of the great day. “I have a very nice present for your birthday, princess,” he said, stroking her hair, “but it will be rather a shock at the same time, so you must prepare yourself for it. I have been thinking that you need a lady’s maid,” he went on, laughing, “and I have succeeded in finding you one.” “Marry, I need no lady’s maid,” she replied, somewhat puzzled at the twinkle in his eye, “and you must not think of such a thing. I prefer to look after myself. I am not a grand lady and, even if I were, I would rather not have one. I am sure I should not like her.” “I am sure you would,” said Ian, “and in any wise you must try and like her, because I insist.” “You must not tease me, your Grace, I really do not want one.” “I will not be called ‘your Grace,’ pussie,” he said, gently pulling her hair. “Well, if you get me a lady’s maid, I shall call you ‘your Grace’ and then we shall all be grand together.” “But I have gotten her already. I heard of her in a curious way in a letter from Walter Margrove, but I kept it as a surprise until I could get hold of her.” “Oh, but really, Ian, I do not want her,” Aline protested. “I should hate her. Yes, by my troth, I should,” and she looked genuinely distressed. “You would not hate this one,” he replied a little sadly; “it is some one that you know. But I must not tease you.” “Do you mean Audry?” she asked doubtfully. “That would not be a shock, sweet child. No,--here she is.” He then beckoned to some one out of sight through the open door; and a slim girl of nearly twelve came shyly forward and stood hesitatingly on the threshold. Aline gave a little startled glance and then looked at Ian, who smiled reassuringly. “O Joan,” she cried, “they told me you were dead.” “I was very ill,” said the child, louting low, “but I was not dead, Mistress Aline; it was the little girl that came from Barnard Castle, who died, whom Mistress Ellen Allen had sent to Durham from Teesdale too, much in the same manner that you sent me.”