er. The equally amusing work
of cutting up the bride-cake revealed Richard de Clare in possession of
the ring, supposed to indicate approaching matrimony, Marie of the
silver penny which denoted riches, and Doucebelle of the thimble which
doomed her to celibacy.

"There, now! 'Tis as plain to be seen as the church spire!" said Eva,
clapping her hands. "Margaret is destined by fate to wed with my cousin
Sir Richard."

"Well, if `fate' mean my wish and intention, so she is," whispered the
Countess to her sister the bride.

"Doth thy Lord so purpose it?" asked Marjory.

"Oh, hush!" responded the Countess, laughing. "He knows nothing about
it, and I don't intend that he shall, just yet. Trust me to bring
things about."

"But suppose he should be angry?"

"_Pure foy_! He is never angry with me. Oh, thou dost not understand,
my dear Madge,--at present. Men always want managing. When thou hast
been wed a year, thou wilt know more about it."

"But can all women manage men?" asked Marjory in an amused tone.

"_Ha, chetife_! No, indeed. And there are some men who can't be
managed,--worse luck! But my Lord is not one of the latter, the holy
saints be thanked."

"And thou art one of the women who can manage men," answered Marjory,
laughing. "I wonder at thee, Magot, and have done so many times,--thou
hast such a strange power of winning folks to thy will."

"Well, that some have, and some have not. I have it, I know," said the
Countess, complacently. "But I will give thee a bit of counsel, Madge,
which thou mayest find useful. First, have a will: let it be clear and
distinct in thine own mind, what thou wouldst have done. And, secondly,
let people see that thou takest quietly for granted that of course they
will do it. There is a great deal in that, with some people. A weak
will always bends to a strong."

"But when two strong ones come in collision, how then?"

"Why, like wild animals,--fight it out, and discover which is the
stronger."

"A tournament of wills!" said Marjory. "I should hardly care to enter
those lists, I think."

The Countess laughed, and shook her head. She knew that among the
strong-willed women Marjory was not to be reckoned.

A tournament of that class was being held all that summer between the
regular priests and the newly-instituted Predicant Friars. The priests
complained that the friars presumed to hear confessions in the churches,
which it was the prerogative of t