r scheme; but she
was by no means prepared to find him already informed of the affair of
the Dance of Death, and putting his own construction on it.

'So, my fair cousin, this is the end of your waywardness. The tokens
were certainly somewhat strong; but the young gentleman's birth being
equal to yours, after the spectacle you have presented, your uncle of St.
Pol, and I myself, must do our utmost to obtain the consent of the Duke
of Burgundy.'

'Monseigneur is mistaken,' said Esclairmonde.

'Child, we will have no more folly. You have flown after this young Scot
in a manner fitted only for the foolish name your father culled for you
out of his books of chivalry. You have given a lesson to the whole Court
and city on the consequences of a damsel judging for herself, and running
a mad course over the world, instead of submitting to her guardians.'

'The Court understands my purpose as well as you do, Monseigneur.'

'Silence, Mademoiselle. Your convent obstinacy is ended for ever now,
since to send you to one would be to appear to hide a scandal.'

'I do not wish to enter a convent,' said Esclairmonde. 'My desire is to
dedicate my labour and my substance to the foundation of a house here at
Paris, such as are the Beguinages of our Netherlands,'

The Bishop held up his hands. He had never heard of such lunacy and it
angered him, as such purposes are wont to anger worldly-hearted men. That
a lady of Luxemburg should have such vulgar tastes as to wish to be a
Beguine was bad enough; but that Netherlandish wealth should be devoted
to support the factious poor of Paris was preposterous. Neither the Duke
of Burgundy, nor her uncle of St. Pol, would allow a sou to pass out of
their grasp for so absurd a purpose; the Pope would give no license--above
all to a vain girl, who had helped a wife to run away from her
husband--for new religious houses; and, unless Esclairmonde was prepared
to be landless, penniless, and the scorn of every one, for her wild
behaviour, she must submit, _bon gre, mal gre_, to become the wife of the
Scottish prince.

'Landless and penniless then will I be, Monseigneur,' said Esclairmonde.
'Was not poverty the bride of St. Francis?'

The Bishop made a growl of contempt; but recollecting himself, and his
respect for the saint, began to argue that what was possible for a man, a
mere merchant's son, an inspired saint besides, was not possible to a
damsel of high degree, and that it was mere pr