, and gave the marriage
of my Lord to my Lord Prince, the King that now is [Edward the Third].
So my father, being then at top of the tree, begged the marriage for one
of his daughters, and it was settled that should be me. I liked it well
enough, to feel myself the most important person in the pageant, and to
be beautifully donned, and all that; and as I was not to leave home for
some years to come, it was but a show, and cost me nothing. I dare say
it cost somebody a pretty penny. Beatrice was higher mated, with my
Lord of Norfolk's son, who was the King's cousin, but he died a lad,
poor soul! so her grandeur came to nought, and she wedded at last a much
lesser noble.

Thus dwelt we maids with our mother in the Castle of Ludlow, seeing
nought of the fine doings that were at Court, save just for the time of
our marriages, which were at Wynchecombe on the day of Saint Lazarus,
that is the morrow of O Sapientia [Note 4]. The King was present
himself, and the young Lady Philippa, who the next month became our
Queen, and his sisters the Ladies Alianora and Joan, and more Earls and
Countesses than I can count, all donned their finest. Well-a-day, but
there must have been many a yard of velvet in that chapel, and an whole
army of beasts ermines must have laid their lives down to purfile [trim
with fur] the same! I was donned myself of blue velvet guarded of
miniver, and wore all my Lady's jewels on mine head and corsage; and
marry, but I queened it! Who but I for that morrow, in very sooth!

Ay, and somebody else [Queen Isabelle, the young King's mother] was
there, whom I have not named. Somebody robed in snow-white velvet, with
close hood and wimple, so that all that showed of her face was from the
eyebrows to the lips,--all pure, unstained mourning white. Little I
knew of the horrible stains on that black heart beneath! And I thought
her so sweet, so fair! Come, I have spoken too plainly to add a name.

So all passed away like a dream, and we won back to Ludlow, and matters
fell back to the old ways, as if nought had ever happened--the only real
difference being that instead of "Damsel Agnes" I was "my Lady of
Pembroke," and our baby Beatrice, instead of "Damsel Beattie," was "my
Lady Beatrice of Norfolk." And about a year after that came letters
from Nym, addressed to "my Lady Countess of March," in which he writ
that the King had made divers earls, and our father amongst them. Dame
Hilda told us the news i