e woman laughed, thereby increasing the mysterious resemblance which
was perplexing Stephen.

"Why," said she, "you are Stephen Esueillechien, unless I greatly
mistake."

"So I am," answered Stephen, "or rather, so I was; for men call me now
Stephen le Bulenger. But who are you?"

"Don't you think I'm rather like Leuesa?"

"That's it! But how come you hither, old friend? Have you left my
cousin? Or is she--"

"The Lady Derette is still in the anchorhold. I left her when I wedded.
Do you remember Roscius le Mercer, who dwelt at the corner of North
Gate Street? He is my husband--but they call him here Roscius de
Oxineford--and we have lately come to London. So you live in Bread
Street, I suppose, if you are a baker?"

Stephen acknowledged his official residence, mentally reserving the
private one, and purposing to give Ermine a hint to confine herself for
the present to Ivy Lane.

"Do come in," said Leuesa hospitably, "and let us have a chat about old
friends."

And lifting up her voice she called--"Roscius!"

The mercer, whom Stephen remembered as a slim youth, presented himself
in the changed character of a stout man of five-and-thirty, and warmly
seconded his wife's invitation, as soon as he recognised an old
acquaintance.

"I'm glad enough to hear of old friends," said Stephen, "for I haven't
heard a single word since I left Oxford about any one of them. Tell me
first of my brother. Is he living and in the old place?"

"Ay, and Anania too, and all the children. I don't think there have
been any changes in the Castle."

"Uncle Manning and Aunt Isel?"

"Manning died three years ago, and Isel dwells now with Raven and
Flemild, who have only one daughter, so they have plenty of room for
her."

"Then what has become of Haimet?"

"Oh, he married Asselot, the rich daughter of old Tankard of Bicester.
He lives at Bicester now. Romund and Mabel are well; they have no
children, but Haimet has several."

"Both my cousins married heiresses? They have not done badly, it
seems."

"N-o, they have _not_, in one way," said Leuesa. "But I do not think
Haimet is bettered by his marriage. He seems to me to be getting very
fond of money, and always to measure everything by the silver pennies it
cost. That's not the true ell-wand; or I'm mistaken."

"You are not, Leuesa. I'd as soon be choked with a down pillow as have
my soul all smothered up with gold. Well, and how do other folks get
on?--Frann