associate and contemporary of Maude,
was by no means to be mistaken for an angel.

Parnel was three years older than Maude, and much better acquainted with
her work. She could accomplish a marvellous quantity within a given
time, when it pleased her; and it generally did please her to rush to
the end of her task, and to spend the remaining time in teasing Maude.
She had no positive unkind feeling towards the child, but she was
extremely mischievous, and Maude being extremely teasable, the
temptation of amusing her leisure by worrying the nervous and
inexperienced child was too strong to be resisted. The occupations of
her present life disgusted Maude beyond measure. The scullery-work, of
which Ursula gave her the most unpleasant parts, was unspeakably
revolting to her quick sense of artistic beauty, and to a certain
delicacy and refinement of nature which she had inherited, not acquired;
and which Ursula, if she could have comprehended it, would have despised
with the intense contempt of the coarse mind for the fine. The child
was one morning engaged in cleaning a very greasy saucepan, close to the
open window, when, to her surprise, she was accosted by a strange voice
in the base court, or back yard of the palace.

"Is that pleasant work--frotting [rubbing] yonder thing?"

Maude looked up into a pair of bright, kindly eyes, which belonged to a
boy attired as a page, some three or four years older than herself.
Something in the lad's good-natured face won her confidence.

"No," she answered honestly, "'tis right displeasant to have ado with
such feune!" [dirt.]

"So me counted," replied the boy. "What name hast thou, little maid?"

"Maude."

"I have not seen thee here aforetime," resumed the page.

"Nor I you," said Maude. "I have bidden hither no long time.
Whereabout sit you in hall?"

"Nigh the high end," said he. "But we are only this day come from
Clarendon with the Lord Edward, whom I and my fellows serve. Fare thee
well, little maid!"

The bright eyes smiled at her, and the head nodded kindly, and passed
on. But insignificant as the remarks were, Maude felt as if she had
found a friend in the great wilderness of Langley Palace.

The next time the page's head paused at her window, Maude summoned
courage to ask him his name.

"Bertram Lyngern," said he smilingly. "I have a longer name than thou."
[See Note 2.]

"And a father and mother?" asked Maude.

"A father," said the boy. "He is o