She had been all these years at Greystone, and the Prioress immediately decided that this would be an excellent opportunity of seeing the southern world, and going on a round of pilgrimages which would make the expedition highly decorous. The ever restless spirit within her rose in delight, and the Sisterhood of York were ready to acquiesce, having faith in Mother Agnes’ good sense to guide her and her pupil to his castle in Bedfordshire by the help of Father Martin through any tangles of the White and Red Roses that might await her, as well to her real principle for avoiding actual evil, though she might startle monastic proprieties. There was no doubt but that conversation, when she could have it, was as great a joy to her as ever was galloping after a deer; and there she sat with her beautiful hound by her side, and her hawk on a pole, exchanging sentiments of speculation as to Warwick’s change of front with Sir Giles Musgrave, Father Martin, and Master Ralph Lorimer, while discussing a pasty certainly very superior to anything that had come out of the Penrith stores. Young Clifford and Lady Anne sat on the grass near, too shy for the present to renew their acquaintance, but looking up at one another under their eyelashes, and the first time their eyes met, the girl breaking into a laugh, but it was not till towards the end of the refection that they were startled into intercourse by a general growling and leaping up of the great hound, and of the two big ungainly dogs chained to the waggon, as wet, lean, bristling but ecstatic, Watch dashed in among them, and fell on his master. For four days (unless he was tied up at first) the good dog must have been tracking him. ‘Off! off!’ cried the Prioress, holding back her deer-hound by main strength. ‘Off, Florimond! he sets thee a pattern of faithfulness! Be quiet and learn thy devoir!’ ‘O sir, I cannot send him back!’ entreated Hal, also embracing and caressing the shaggy neck. ‘Send him back! Nay, indeed. As saith the Reverend Mother, it were well if some earls and lords minded his example,’ said Sir Giles. ‘Here! Watch, I mind thee well,’ added Anne. ‘Here’s a slice of pasty to reward thee. Oh! thou art very hungry,’ as the big mouth bolted it whole. ‘Nearly famished, poor rogue!’ said Hal, administering a bone. ‘How far hast thou run, mine own lad! Art fain to come with thy master and see the hermit?’ ‘Thou must e’en go,’ growled Simon Bunce, ‘unless the lady’s dog make an end of thee! ‘Tis ever the worthless that turn up.’ ‘I would Florimond would show himself as true,’ said the Prioress. ‘Don’t show thy teeth, sir! I can honour Watch, yet love thee.’ ‘’Tis jealousy as upsets faith,’ said the merchant. ‘The hound is a knightly beast with his proud head, but he brooks not to see a Woodville creep in.’ ‘Nay, or a Beaufort!’ suggested Sir Giles. ‘No treason, Lord Musgrave!’ said the Prioress, laughing. ‘Ah, madam,’ responded Sir Giles, ‘what is treason?’