'You have been all that is kind and dear,' faltered Lesbia.

'Then give me measure for measure. My life has been a hard one, child;
hard and lonely, and loveless and joyless. My son, to whom I devoted
myself in the vigour of youth and in the prime of life, never loved me,
never repaid me for my love. He spent his days far away from me, when
his presence would have gladdened my difficult life. He died in a
strange land. Of his three children, you are the one I took into my
heart. I did my duty to the others; I lavished my love upon you. Do not
give me cursing instead of blessing. Do not give me a stone instead of
bread. I have built every hope of happiness or pleasure in this world
upon you and your obedience. Obey me, be true to me, and I will make you
a queen, and I will sit in the shadow of your throne. I will toil for
you, and be wise for you. You shall have only to shine, and dazzle, and
enjoy the glory of life. My beautiful darling, for pity's sake do not
give yourself over to folly.'

'Did not you marry for love, grandmother?'

'No, Lesbia. Lord Maulevrier and I got on very well together, but ours
was no love-match.'

'Does nobody in our rank ever marry for love? are all marriages a mere
exchange and barter?'

'No, there are love-matches now and then, which often turn out badly.
But, my darling, I am not asking you to marry for rank or for money. I
am only asking you to wait till you find your mate among the noblest in
the land. He may be the handsomest and most accomplished of men, a man
born to win women's hearts; and you may love him as fervently as ever a
village girl loved her first lover. I am not going to sacrifice you, or
to barter you, dearest. I mean to marry you to the best and noblest
young man of his day. You shall never be asked to stoop to the unworthy,
not even if worthlessness wore strawberry leaves in his cap, and owned
the greatest estate in the land.'

'And if--instead of waiting-for this King Arthur of yours--I were to do
as Iseult did--as Guinevere did--choose for myself----'

'Iseult and Guinevere were wantons. I wonder that you can name them in
comparison with yourself.'

'If I were to marry a good and honourable man who has his place to make
in the world, would you never forgive me?'

'You mean Mr. Hammond? You may just as well speak plainly,' said Lady
Maulevrier, freezingly. 'If you were capable of such idiocy as that,
Lesbia, I would pluck you out of my heart like a foul w