remained; for she had not drunk of the Living
Water.

"The founder of our house,"--thus Mother Joan began her narrative,--"was
my grandfather's father, slain, above an hundred years ago, at the
battle of Evesham. He left an infant son, not four years old when he
died. This was my grandfather, Hugh Le Despenser, Earl of Winchester,
who at the age of twenty-five advanced the fortunes of his house by
wedding a daughter of Warwick, Isabel, the young widow of the Lord de
Chaworth, and the mother's mother of Alianora of Lancaster. Thou and
thy father's wife, therefore, are near akin. This Isabel (after whom
thy mother was named) was a famed beauty, and brought moreover a very
rich dower. My grandfather and she had many children, but I need only
speak of one--my hapless father.

"King Edward of Caernarvon loved my father dearly. In truth, so did
Edward of Westminster, who bestowed on him, ere he was fully ten years
old, the hand of his grand-daughter, my mother, Alianora de Clare, who
brought him in dower the mighty earldom of Gloucester. The eldest of us
was Hugh my brother; then came I; next followed my other brothers,
Edward, Gilbert, and Philip; and last of all, eight years after me, came
Isabel thy mother.

"From her birth this child was mine especial care. I was alway a
thoughtful, quiet maiden, more meet for cloister than court; and I well
remember, though 'tis fifty years ago, the morrow when my baby-sister
was put into mine arms, and I was bidden to have a care of her. Have a
care of her! Had she never passed into any worse care than mine--
well-a-day! Yet, could I have looked forward into the future, and have
read Isabel's coming history, I might have thought that the wisest and
kindest course I could take would be to smother her in her cradle.

"Before she was three years old, she passed from me. My Lord of
Arundel--Earl Edmund that then was--was very friendly with my father;
and he desired that their families should be drawn closer together by
the marriage of Richard Fitzalan, his son and heir--a boy of twelve
years--with one of my father's daughters. My father, thus appealed
unto, gave him our snowdrop.

"`Not Joan,' said he; `Joan is God's. She shall be the spouse of Christ
in Shaftesbury Abbey.'

"So it came that ere my darling was three years old, they twined the
bride-wreath for her hair, and let it all down flowing, soft and
shining, from beneath her golden fillet. Ah holy Virgin! had i