stuff I ever saw. And I could see then."

Her voice fell so mournfully that Philippa tried to turn her attention
by asking her,--"Knew you King Edward of Westminster?" [See note 3.]

"Nay, Lady de Sergeaux, with what years do you credit me?" rejoined the
nun, laughing a little. "Edward of Westminster was dead ere I was born.
But I have heard of him from them that did remember him well. He was a
goodly man, of lofty stature, and royal presence: a wise man, and a
cunning [clever]--saving only that he opposed our holy Father the Pope."

"Did he so?" responded Philippa.

"Did he so!" ironically repeated Mother Joan. "Did he not command that
no Bull should ever be brought into England? and hanged he not the Prior
of Saint John of Jerusalem for reading one to his monks? I can tell
you, to brave Edward of Westminster was no laughing matter. He never
cared what his anger cost. His own children had need to think twice ere
they aroused his ire. Why, on the day of his daughter the Lady
Elizabeth's marriage with my noble Lord of Hereford, he, being angered
by some word of the bride, snatched her coronet from off her head, and
flung it behind the fire. Ay, and a jewel or twain was lost therefrom
ere the Lady's Grace had it back."

"And his son, King Edward of Caernarvon--what like was he?" asked
Philippa, smiling.

Mother Joan did not answer immediately. At last she said,--"The blessed
Virgin grant that they which have reviled him be no worse than he! He
had some strange notions--so had other men, whom I at least am bound to
hold in honour. God grant all peace!"

Philippa wondered who the other men were, and whether Mother Joan
alluded to her own ancestors. She knew nothing of the Despensers,
except the remembrance that she had never heard them alluded to at
Arundel but in a tone of bitter scorn and loathing.

"Maybe," continued the blind woman, in a softer voice, "he was no worse
for his strange opinions. Some were not. 'Tis a marvellous matter,
surely, that there be that can lead lives of angels, and yet hold views
that holy Church condemneth as utterly to be abhorred."

"Whom mean you, Mother?"

"I mean, child," replied the nun, speaking slowly and painfully, "one
whom I hope is gone to God. One to whom, and for whom, this world was
an ill place; and, therefore, I trust she hath found her rest in a
better. God knoweth how and when she died--if she be dead. We never
knew."

Mother Joan made the sig