d said a few words asking pardon for thus
intruding on a private place, but she gave him a swift smile and said,
"Sir Paul, no more of this--you are known to me, though you know me
not. I have been at the Duke's as a guest; I have heard you
sing--indeed," she added smiling, "I have been honoured by having been
made known to the prince of musical men--but he hath forgotten my poor
self; I am the Lady Beckwith, who welcomes you to her poor house--the
Isle of Thorns, as they call it--and will deem it an honour that you
should set foot therein; though I think that you came not for my
sake."

"Alas, madam, no," said Paul, smiling too. "I did but walk solitary in
the forest; I am lacking in courtesy, I fear; I knew not that there
was a house here, but it pleased me to see it lie like a jewel in the
wood."

"You knew not it was here, or you would have shunned it!" said the
Lady Beckwith with a smile. "Well, I live here solitary enough with my
daughters--my husband is long since dead--but to-day we must have a
guest--you will enter and tarry with us a little?"

"Yes, very willingly," said Paul, who, like many men that care not
much for company, was tenderly courteous when there was no escape. So
after some further passages of courtesy, they went within.

The Lady Beckwith led him into a fair tapestried room, and bade him be
seated, while she went to call upon her servants to make ready
refreshments for him. Paul seated himself in an oak chair and looked
around him. The place was but scantily furnished, but Paul had
pleasure in looking upon the old solid furniture, which reminded him
of the House of Heritage and of his far-off boyhood. He was pleased,
too, with the tapestry, which represented a wood of walnut-trees, and
a man that sate looking upon a stream as though he listened; and then
Paul discerned the figure of a brave bird wrought among the leaves,
that seemed to sing; while he looked, he heard the faint sound in a
room above of some one moving; then a lute was touched, and then there
rose a soft voice, very pure and clear, that sang a short song of long
sweet notes, with a descant on the lute, ending in a high drawn-out
note, that went to Paul's heart like wine poured forth, and seemed to
fill the room with a kind of delicate fragrance.

Presently the Lady Beckwith returned; and they sate and talked
awhile, till there came suddenly into the room a maiden that seemed to
Paul like a rose; she came almost eagerly forw