‘Ay, a summer’s dream!’ said Hal.  ‘Tell her the folly of it.’

’I verily believe he does not want me.  If he had not a lame leg, I trow he would be trying to be mewed up with his King!’

‘It would be my duty,’ murmured Hal, ’nor should I love thee the less.’

‘’Tis a duty beyond your reach,’ said the Prioress.  ’Master Lorimer hears that none have access to King Henry, God help him! and he sits as in a trance, as though he understood and took heed of nothing—­not even of this last sore battle.’

‘God aid him!  Aye, and his converse is with Him,’ said Hal, with a gush of tears.  ‘He minds nought of earth, not even earthly griefs.’

‘But we, we are of earth still, and have our years before us,’ said Anne, ’and I will not spend mine the dreary lady of a dull castle.  Either I will back and take my vows in your Priory, reverend Mother, if Hal there disdains to have me.’

’Nan, Nan! when you know that all I dread is to have you mewed behind a wall of snow as thick as the walls of the Tower and freezing to the bone!’

’With you behind it telling all the tales.  Mother, prithee prove to him that I am not made of sugar like the Clares, but that I love a fresh wind and the open moorlands.’

The Prioress laughed and took her away, but in private the maiden convinced her that the proposal, however wild, was in full earnest, and not in utter ignorance of the way of life that was preferred.

Afterwards the good lady discussed it with the Lorimers.  ’For my part,’ she said, ’I see nought to gainsay the children having their way.  They are equal in birth and breeding, and love one another heartily, and the times may turn about to bring them to their own proper station.’

‘But the hardness and the roughness of the life,’ objected Mistress Lorimer, ‘for a dainty, convent-bred lady.’

’My convent—­God, forgive me!—­is not like the Poor Clares.  We knew there what cold and hunger mean, as well as what free air and mountains are.  Moreover, though the maid thinks not of it, I do not believe the life will be so bare and comfortless.  The lad’s mother hath not let him want, and there is a heritage through the Vescis that must come to him, even if he never can claim the lands of Clifford.’

’And now that all Lancaster is gone, King Edward may be less vindictive against the Red Rose,’ said Lorimer.

‘There must be a dowry secured to the maid,’ said the Prioress.  ’Let them only lie quiet for a time till the remains of the late tempest have blown over, and all will be well with them.  Ay, and Master Lorimer, the Lady Threlkeld, as well as myself, will fully acquit ourselves of the heavy charges you have been put to for your hospitality to us.’

Master Lorimer disclaimed all save his delight in the honour paid to his poor house, and appealed to his wife, who seconded him courteously, though perhaps the expenses of a wounded knight, three nuns, a noble damsel and their horses, were felt by her enough to make the promise gratifying.