most.  He wrangled not of religion, but ever kept the divine spark in his own heart alive, if not fanned to flame.  Indeed so indifferent was his Lordship to the great questions of the times, he thought not of the ancient monastery in the depths of the vast forest upon his estate, where still resided recluses.  ’Twas seldom he thought of these simple monks.  They lived in seeming quiet, enjoying the freehold of their castle.  But there was a storm brewing, and in its midst his Lordship was to be severely reminded of their presence.

CHAPTER VIII

THE ANCIENT MONASTERY

Lord Cedric’s guests all departed after the Saxon dance, save their Graces of Ellswold, Lady Constance, Lady Bettie Payne and Count Cantemir.  And with their exit spring seemed to burst forth in sward, bourgeon and bud, and the clinging tendrils upon the castle walls grew heavy and pink with their greedy absorption of carbon dioxide from the warm atmosphere.  It seemed the unfolding of nature brought ten times more pain and uneasiness and mad love to Lord Cedric’s heart.  He had not yet learned who had been talking to Katherine of love.  Janet had mentioned Adrian Cantemir; he had laughed at her.  Constance had pointed to Lord Droylsden, a man of distinction and strong personality, whose estates joined his own.  This appeared more plausible than the suit of Cantemir, and his Lordship watched Katherine when she was with these two and soon found, so he thought, it was for the latter she cared; indeed ’twas hard for him to follow the trend of her vacillating mind.

’Twas a glorious, warm spring morning.  Mistress Penwick had ridden forth, attended by a groom, to the village.  She spent the entire morning in visiting the poor and sick and did not fail to note the dilapidated state of the cottages.  She rode home flushed and eager with plans.  She made known to Lord Cedric her desires to build up these poor cottages.  Without question he doubled the amount of money she asked for, and paid her a large sum for immediate use among the poor.  Katherine’s heart was touched by his goodness to her, and spoke with more warmth than ’twas her wont and opined ’twould be a glorious afternoon for their ride in the forest!  He had kept his eyes steadily from her; for ’twas his mood to play the disinterested and unconcerned; but at this innovation on her part he raised his eyes and spoke indifferently: 

“Aye, if this weather continues, we will have roses in a fortnight.”

“Speaking of roses reminds me; as I started forth this morning I saw a gardener upon the upper terrace trimming about some bushes of wonderful grace and beauty, and as I stepped among them I saw an ancient sundial; ’tis the first I’ve yet seen, and I made bold to ask him to plant some rare rose near it, that its leaves and blossoms might enfold its cold marble whiteness and warm it to greater beauty.”

“And didst not thou suggest some choice?”