Janet and her mistress walked the deck when ’twas possible, from rise to set of sun, and Katherine expanded until her convent dress became straightened, and she retired to her bed while Janet let out seams, augmenting it to her mistress’ further comfort and development.

It was almost with regret that they espied land; for Janet was anxious, and Katherine was apprehensive of the Scot, and as the white cliffs appeared to rise higher they each wished the sea journey had just begun.

At last they stood upon English soil, and so bewildered was Katherine she could only cling to Janet’s dress like a frightened child; there was such a clamour, ’twas like pandemonium.  The poor frightened thing was inclined to believe that the people were mad and raving, and was hardly called to concentration of thought when Lord Cedric’s Chaplain stood before them dumbfounded by her beauty.

He was a pale, little man, who managed with difficulty to collect his senses and lead them to an equipage of imposing richness that stood not far away.  And immediately after chests and sundry articles of travel were placed upon the coach, the rolling wheels carried them through the town and on beyond, over plains and hills and lonely moors, through forests of oak and beech, coloured in the grey of winter.  Nor did the ponderous vehicle stop save for a hurried refreshment or a short night’s rest at some wayside inn.

Lord Cedric’s orders were not being strictly carried out.  The Chaplain was to bring back to the castle Janet Wadham and baby.  Here was the first-named, but where was the child?  The little man was fearful he had made some mistake, and grew exceedingly nervous when they at last spied the battlements of Crandlemar Castle, and the child for whom he had gone must be accounted for.

Night was falling as the equipage bearing Mistress Katherine and her attendants passed between the massive stone pillars of the gate into the long avenues bordered by leafless trees; and when yet some distance from the castle, the occupants could catch glimpses of many lighted windows.  Katherine lay back on the cushions tired, timid, half-fearful, wondering.  Not so Janet; she craned body and neck fearful lest some small detail of the visible grandeur might escape her.  In a moment more they had stopped at the great entrance, and immediately the ponderous doors were thrown wide by two ugly little dwarfs in magnificent livery.  Out trooped other menials of perhaps less age and greater dignity, quickly gathering from the equipage the chests and bags and other articles of less cumbrousness.  Mistress Katherine, with Janet by her side, was so blinded by the glare of lights and furbished gildings, she saw naught, but followed on up winding stairs, stepping twice upon each broad step; through corridors and alcoves and winding halls, and in her ears was the sound of men’s and women’s soft laughter, and she breathed the perfume of flowers, and inhaled as they passed some half-open door, the odour of paudre de rose and jasmine.