e, she told us all that certain right dear
and old friends of hers, the which she had not seen of many years, were
but now at the _Salutation_ Inn at _Ambleside_, and would fain come on
and tarry a season here if it should suit with _Mother's_ conveniency to
have them.

"And right fain should I be," saith she; and so said _Father_ likewise.

Then _Mother_ told us who were these her old friends: to wit, Sir
_Robert Stafford_ and his lady, which was of old time one Mistress
_Dulcibel Fenton_, of far kin unto my Lady _Norris_, that was _Mother's_
mistress of old days at _Minster Lovel_: and moreover, one Mistress
_Martin_, a widow that is sister unto Sir _Robert_, and was _Mother's_
fellow when she served my dear-worthy Lady of _Surrey_. So _Father_
saith he would ride o'er himself to _Ambleside_, and give them better
welcome than to send but a letter back: and _Mother_ did desire her most
loving commendations unto them all, and bade us all be hasteful and help
to make ready the guest-chambers. So right busy were we all the morrow,
and no time for no tales of no sort: but in the afternoon, when all was
done, Aunt _Joyce_ had us three up into her chamber, and bade us sit and
listen.

"For it is a sorrowful story I have to tell," saith she: and added, as
though she spake to herself,--"ay, and it were best got o'er ere
_Dulcie_ cometh."

So we sat all in the window-seat, _Milly_ in the midst, and Aunt _Joyce_
afore us in a great cushioned chair.

"When I was of your years, _Milly_," saith she, "I dwelt--where I now do
at _Minster Lovel_, with my father and my sister _Anstace_. Our mother
was dead, and our baby brother _Walter_; and of us there had never been
more. But we had two cousins--one _Aubrey Louvaine_, the son of our
mother's sister,--you wot who he is," she saith, and smiled: "and the
other, the son of our father's sister dwelt at _Oxford_ with his mother,
a widow, and his name was--_Leonard Norris_."

The name was so long a-coming that I marvelled if she meant to tell us.

"I do not desire to make my tale longer than need is, dear hearts,"
pursueth she, "and therefore I will but tell you that in course of time,
with assent of my father and his mother, my cousin _Leonard_ and I were
troth-plight. I loved him, methinks, as well as it was in woman to love
man: and--I thought he loved me. I never knew a man who had such a
tongue to cajole a woman's heart. He could talk in such a fashion that
thou shouldst