stern was

oved their abb

line of convents, which, together with the entire Western Church

too turbulent and unmanageable for the soberminded house at York. So there she was sent, with the deeply devout and strict Sister Scholastica, to keep the establishment in order, and deal with the younger nuns and lay Sisters. Being not entirely out of reach of a raid from the Scottish border, it was hardly a place for

ho had been the despair of her mother and of the discreet dames to whom her first childhood had been committed, to say nothing of a Lady Abbess or two. Indeed, from the Mother of Sopwell, Dame Julian Berners, she had imbibed nothing but a vehement taste for hawk, horse, and ho

er arms outstretched, her face, not young nor handsome, but sunburnt, weather-beaten and healthy, and full of delight. 'My child, my Nan, here thou art!

is hut, Lady Mother,' an

ng riderless at the stable door, and Sister Scholastica told us that there he h

ull chase of hawk and heron, 'and none ever

unting higher and higher, till she was but a speck in the clouds, and Tam Falconer shouting and gallopin

re her, Mother

well-nigh at the Tyne before we had caught her. Full of pranks, but a noble hawk, as I shall write to my br

erend Mother, if she had cross

ot at all like a reverend Mother. 'Now, poor Anne, thou must be hungered. Thou shalt eat with Master Be

and wardrobe, and further, a bed hung with thick curtains, in which she slept with the lay Sister, Joan, who further fetched a wooden bowl of water from the fountain in the court that she might wash her face and hands. She changed her soiled r

of the Lady Anne had been discovered, and how it was feared that she had been seized

about on the mosses-comrades, 'tis said,

, in a shepherd's she

n the north hi

said Anne. 'By Blackreed Moss.

the widow of the red-handed Clifford, who slew young Earl Edmund on Wakefield Bridge. They say her young

had nought to do w

ires know nought of how deep goes the blood feud in us of the Borderland! Ay, lady, was not mine own grandfather slain by the Musgrave of Leit

what the good Fathers

now nought about blood crying for blood! If King Edward caught that brat o

e, go you down-you know nothing about what honour requires of you! You are but

and southern counties, where there was less infusion of Celtic blood. Anne was a good deal shocked at the doctrine propounded by the attendant Sister, a mild, good-natured woman in daily life, but the conversation confir

ded Sister Scholastica on her way to the chapel. The old nun held out her arms. 'Safely returned,

ak my fast with the Mot

But do but utter thy thanks to Him Who kept

ee, uttered in a low voice her 'Gratias ago,' then hastened across the court to the refectory, where the Prioress received her wit

ated at the board-literally a board, supported upon trestles, only large enough to receive t

sat very lightly on the Prioress Selby. Bertram was of kin to her, and she had no demur as to admitting him to her private table. He was, in fact, a squire of the household of the Marquess of Montagu, brother of the Kingmaker and had been des

fford, and both these scions of Selby had been excited at a rumour that the widow of the Baron who had slain young Edmund of York had marr

h; and no sooner had he carved for the ladies, according to the courtly duty of an esquire, than the inquiry began as to who had found the maiden and where she had been lodged. Pr

wast thou in that untimely snow-sto

a cabin with a

st thou there? Wa

hepherd hea

at, the churl tha

ed me to

as his master? Anne did not know-she had heard no names save Hob and Hal, she had seen no arms, she had heard nothing southland. The lad was a mere herd-boy, ordered out to milk ewes and tend the sheep. She answered briefly, and with a certain sullenness, and young Selby at last turned on her. 'Look thee here, fair lady, t

rowled Anne, who had been hitherto busy wi

g in hiding in these parts, it is not the part of an honest man to seek him out for his destruction, and still l

am, 'if you knew what some would give

elby would sell his honour and his bowels of mercy,' s

n not understanding, and mischief that might be brewing; but the Prioress,

ou think he will go after him? H

eems coming up again. I cannot turn the youth, my kinsman, from my door, and he is safer here than on his quest, but he shall see

good indeed!' cried Ann

night in the hospitium, with only the chaplain to bear him company, and it was re