she
required them to the smallest detail. She was particular that her
step-daughter's chair should not be set one inch further under the
canopy than was precisely proper; her fur trimmings must be carefully
regulated, so as not to equal those of the Duchess in breadth; instead
of the old home name of "the Lady Custance," she must be styled "the
Lady Le Despenser;" and the Duchess strongly objected to her using such
vulgar nicknames as "Ned" and "Dickon," desiring that she would in
future address her brothers properly as "my Lord." Angrily the royal
lioness chafed against this tyranny. Many a time Maude noticed the
flush of annoyance which rose to her lady's cheek, and the tremor of her
lip, as if she could with difficulty restrain herself from wrathful
words. It evidently vexed her to be given her married name; but the
interference with the pet name of the pet brother was what she felt most
bitterly of all. And Maude began to wonder how long it would last.

It was a calm, mild evening in January, 1394, and in the Princess's
bower, or bedroom, stood Maude, re-arranging a portion of her lady's
wardrobe. The Duchess had been that day more than usually exacting and
precise, much to the amusement of Bertram Lyngern, at present at Langley
in the train of his master. The door of Constance's bower was suddenly
opened and dashed to again, and the Princess herself entered, and began
pacing up and down the room like a chafed lioness--a habit of all the
Plantagenets when in a passion. She stopped a minute opposite Maude,
and said in a determined voice:

"Make ready for Cardiff!"

And she resumed her angry march.

In this manner the Lady Le Despenser intimated her condescending
intention of fulfilling her matrimonial duties at last. Maude knew her
too well to reply by anything beyond a respectful indication of
obedience. Constance only gave her one day to prepare. The next
morning but one the whole train of the Lady Le Despenser set forth on
their eventful journey.

CHAPTER SIX.

TRUE GOLD AND FALSE.

"Woe be to fearful hearts and faint hands, and the sinner that goeth
two ways!"--Ecclus. two 12.

Whatever may have been the feeling which possessed the mind of Constance
on her departure from Langley, the incident was felt by Maude as a
wrench and an uprooting, surpassing any previous incident of her life
since leaving Pleshy. The old house itself had come to feel like a mute
friend; the people left behi