the side of one whom no creature
unassoilzed and unbaptised dare approach, by sweet St. Valery I should
say--yonder stands one of those same gentilles fees!"

King Edward's eye followed the direction of his companion's outstretched
hand, and his quiet brow slightly contracted as he beheld the young form
of Edith standing motionless a few yards before him, with the warm May
wind lifting and playing with her long golden locks. He checked his
palfrey, and murmured some Latin words which the knight beside him
recognised as a prayer, and to which, doffing his cap, he added an Amen,
in a tone of such unctuous gravity, that the royal saint rewarded him
with a faint approving smile, and an affectionate "Bene vene,
Piosissime."

Then inclining his palfrey's head towards the knoll, he motioned to the
girl to approach him. Edith, with a heightened colour, obeyed, and came
to the roadside. The standard-bearers halted, as did the king and his
comrade--the procession behind halted--thirty knights, two bishops, eight
abbots, all on fiery steeds and in Norman garb--squires and attendants on
foot--a long and pompous retinue--they halted all. Only a stray hound or
two broke from the rest, and wandered into the forest land with heads
trailing.

"Edith, my child," said Edward, still in Norman-French, for he spoke his
own language with hesitation, and the Romance tongue, which had long been
familiar to the higher classes in England, had, since his accession,
become the only language in use at court, and as such every one of
'Eorl-kind' was supposed to speak it;--"Edith, my child, thou hast not
forgotten my lessons, I trow; thou singest the hymns I gave thee, and
neglectest not to wear the relic round thy neck."

The girl hung her head, and spoke not.

"How comes it, then," continued the King, with a voice to which he in
vain endeavoured to impart an accent of severity, "how comes it, O little
one, that thou, whose thoughts should be lifted already above this carnal
world, and eager for the service of Mary the chaste and blessed, standest
thus hoodless and alone on the waysides, a mark for the eyes of men? go
to, it is naught."

Thus reproved, and in presence of so large and brilliant a company, the
girl's colour went and came, her breast heaved high, but with an effort
beyond her age she checked her tears, and said meekly, "My grandmother,
Hilda, bade me come with her, and I came."

"Hilda!" said the King, backing his palfrey wit