tion Miss sounded familiar and
unsuitable, but it had just come into use for younger spinsters,
though officially they were still termed Mistress.

Mistress or Miss Dunord was sallow and gray-eyed, somewhat older
than Anne, and looking thoroughly French, though her English was
perfect. She was entirely dressed in blue and white, and had a
rosary and cross at her girdle. "This way," she said, tripping up a
steep wooden stair. "We sleep above. 'Tis a huge, awkward place.
Her Majesty calls it the biggest and most uncomfortable palace she
ever was in."

Opening a heavy door, she showed a room of considerable size, hung
with faded frayed tapestry, and containing two huge bedsteads, with
four heavy posts, and canopies of wood, as near boxes as could well
be. Privacy was a luxury not ordinarily coveted, and the
arrangement did not surprise Anne, though she could have wished that
on that summer day curtains and tapestry had been less fusty. Two
young women were busy over a dress spread on one of the beds, and
with French ease and grace the guide said, "Here is our new
colleague, Miss Jacobina Woodford. Let me present Miss Hester
Bridgeman and Miss Jane Humphreys."

"Miss Woodford is welcome," said Miss Bridgeman, a keen, brown,
lively, somewhat anxious-looking person, courtesying and holding out
her hand, and her example was followed by Jane Humphreys, a stout,
rosy, commonplace girl.

"Oh! I am glad," this last cried. "Now I shall have a bedfellow."

This Anne was the less sorry for, as she saw that the bed of the
other two was furnished with a holy water stoup and a little shrine
with a waxen Madonna. There was only one looking-glass among the
four, and not much apparatus either for washing or the toilet, but
Miss Bridgeman believed that they would soon go to Richmond, where
things would be more comfortable. Then she turned to consult Miss
Dunord on her endeavour to improve the trimmings of a dress of Miss
Humphreys.

"Yes, I know you are always in Our Lady's colours, Pauline, but you
have a pretty taste, and can convince Jane that rose colour and
scarlet cannot go together."

"My father chose the ribbons," said Jane, as if that were
unanswerable.

"City taste," said Miss Bridgeman.

"They are pretty, very pretty with anything else," observed Pauline,
with more tact. "See, now, with your white embroidered petticoat
and the gray train they are ravishing--and the scarlet coat will
enliven the black."