How long Alvena might have proceeded to shock Maude's susceptibilities and outrage her preconceived opinions, it is impossible to say; for at this moment Thurstan opened the door and announced in a rather consequential manner-- "The Lord Le Despenser, to visit the Lady Custance, and Dame Margaret his sister." Maude lifted her eyes to the height of Alvena, and found that she had to lower them to her own. A young lady of about sixteen entered, dressed in a rose-coloured silk striped with gold, and a gold-coloured mantle lined with the palest blue. She led by the hand a very pretty little boy of ten or eleven years of age, attired in a velvet tunic of that light, bright shade of apple-green which our forefathers largely used. It was edged at the neck by a little white frill. He carried in his hand a black velvet cap, from which depended a long and very full red plume of ostrich feathers. His stockings were white silk, his boots red leather, fastened with white buttons. The brother and sister were alike, but the small, delicately-cut features of both were the more delicate in the boy, and on his dark brown hair was a golden gloss which was not visible on that of his sister. "Give you good morrow, Mistress Alvena," said Dame Margaret pleasantly. "The Lady Custance--may one have speech of her?" Before Alvena could reply, the curtain which shrouded the door leading to the Countess's rooms was drawn aside, and Constance came forward herself. "Good morrow, Meg," said she, kissing the young lady. "Thou hast mistaken thy road, Tom." "Wherefore so?" asked Dame Margaret; for her little brother was silent, except that he offered a kiss in his turn, and looked rather disconcerted when no notice was taken of it. "Why, Ned is playing quoits below, and Tom should have bidden with him. Come hither, Meg; I have a pretty thing to show thee." "But Tom came to see your Ladyship." "Well, he has seen me!" said the little Princess impatiently. "I love not lads. They are fit for nought better than playing quoits. Let them go and do it." "What, Dickon?" said Margaret, smiling. "Oh, Dickon!" returned Constance in a changed tone. "But Tom is not Dickon. Neither is he an angel, I wis, for I heard him gainsay once his preceptor." Tom looked very unhappy at this raking up of bygone misdeeds. "Methinks your Ladyship is in ill humour this morrow," said Margaret. "Be not so hard on the lad, for he loveth you." "When I love him, I will do him to wit," said Constance cuttingly. "Come, Meg." Dame Margaret obeyed the command, but she kept hold of the hand of her little brother. When they were gone, Alvena laid down her work and laughed. "Thy Queen of Faery is passing gracious, Maude." "She scarce seemed to matter the lad," was Maude's reply. "Yet she hath sworn to do his bidding all the days of her life," said Alvena. "Why," said Maude, looking up in surprise, "would you say the Lady Custance is troth-plight unto this imp?" [Little boy.]