Grisell watched, till tired with kneeling she went back to her couch, slept a little, and then wondered to see Sister Avice still compounding her simples.
She moved wearily, and sighed for Madge to come in and tell her all the news of Amesbury—who was riding at the ring, or who had shot the best bolt, or who had had her work picked out as not neat or well shaded enough.
Sister Avice came and shook up her pillow, and gave her a dried plum and a little milk, and began to talk to her.
“You will soon be better,” she said, “and then you will be able to play in the garden.”
“Is there any playfellow for me?” asked Grisell.
“There is a little maid from Bemerton, who comes daily to learn her hornbook and her sampler. Mayhap she will stay and play with you.”
“I had Madge at Amesbury; I shall love no one as well as Madge! See what she gave me.”
Grisell displayed her pouncet box, which was duly admired, and then she asked wearily whether she should always have to stay in the convent.
“Oh no, not of need,” said the sister. “Many a maiden who has been here for a time has gone out into the world, but some love this home the best, as I have done.”
“Did yonder nun on the wall?” asked Grisell.