e, whose years barely
numbered twenty. Maude's eyes had come back in disappointment, when
Bertram touched her arm.

"Now, Maude--look now! Look, the beauteous Lady de Narbonne! [A
fictitious person.] Sawest ever maiden meet to be her peer?"

Maude looked, and saw a young girlish figure, splendidly attired,--a
rich red and white complexion, beautiful blue eyes, and a sunny halo of
shining fair hair. But she saw as well, a cold, hard curve of the
delicate lips, a proud cynical expression in the handsome eyes, a bold,
forward manner. Yes, Maude admitted, the Lady de Narbonne was
beautiful; yet she did not care to look at her. Bertram was
disappointed. And so was Maude, for all hope of finding Hawise had
disappeared.

When supper was over, the tables were lifted. The festive board was at
this time literally a board or boards, which were simply set upon
trestles to form a table. At the close of a meal, the tables were
reduced to their primitive elements, and boards and trestles were either
carried away, or heaped in one corner of the hall. The dining-room was
thus virtually transmuted into the drawing-room, ceremony and precedence
being discarded for the rest of the evening--state occasions of course
excepted, and the royal persons present not being addressed unless they
chose to commence a conversation.

Maude kept pretty strictly to her corner all that evening. She was
generally shy of strangers, and none of these were sufficiently
attractive to make her break through her usual habits. Least attractive
of all, to her, was the lovely Lady de Narbonne. Her light, airy ways,
which seemed to enchant the Earl's knights and squires, simply disgusted
Maude. She was the perpetual centre of a group of frivolous idlers, who
dangled round her in the hope of leading her to a seat, or picking up a
dropped glove. She laughed and chatted freely with them all,
distributing her smiles and frowns with entire impartiality--except in
one instance. One member of the Earl's household never came within her
circle, and he was the only one whom she seemed at all desirous to
attract. This was Hugh Calverley. He held aloof from the bright lamp
around which all the other moths were fluttering, and Maude fancied that
he admired the queen of the evening as little as she did herself.

All at once, by no means to Maude's gratification, the lady chose to
rise and walk across the room to her corner.

"And what name hast thou, littl