andish name. It's them little words that prayers begin with."

"`_Deus, in adjutorium_,'" said Gerhardt quietly.

Haimet seemed exceedingly amused. He had attended the schools long
enough to learn Latin sufficient to interpret the common prayers and
Psalms which formed the private devotions of most educated people. This
was because his mother had wished him to be a priest. But having now,
in his own estimation, arrived at years of discretion, he declined the
calling chosen for him, preferring as he said to go into business, and
he had accordingly been bound apprentice to a moneter, or money-changer.
Poor Isel had mourned bitterly over this desertion. To her mind, as to
that of most people in her day, the priesthood was the highest calling
that could be attained by any middle-class man, while trade was a very
mean and despicable occupation, far below domestic service. She
recognised, however, that Haimet was an exception to most rules, and was
likely to take his own way despite of her.

Isel's own lack of education was almost as unusual as Haimet's
possession of it. At that time all learning was in the hands of the
clergy, the monastic orders, and the women. By the Joy, she meant the
Doxology, the English version of which substituted "joy" for "glory;"
while the _Adjutorium_ denoted the two responses which follow the Lord's
Prayer in the morning service, "O God, make speed to save us," "O Lord,
make haste to help us."

"Can't you say _adjutorium_, Mother?" asked the irreverent youth.

"No, lad, I don't think I can. I'll leave that for thee. One's as good
as t'other, for aught I see."

Haimet exploded a second time.

"Good evening!" said Romund's voice, and a cloaked figure, on whose
shoulders drops of rain lay glittering, came in at the door. "I thought
you were not gone up yet, for I saw the light under the door. Derette,
I have news for you. I have just heard that Saint John's anchoritess
died yesterday, and I think, if you would wish it, that I could get the
anchorhold for you. You may choose between that and Godstowe."

Derette scarcely stood irresolute for a moment.

"I should like the anchorhold best, Brother. Then Mother could come to
me whenever she wanted me."

"Is that the only reason?" asked Haimet, half laughing.

"No, not quite," said Derette, with a smile; "but it is a good one."

"Then you make up your mind to that?" questioned Romund.

"Yes, I have made up my mind," replied De