Note 1. She was the young widow of William, Earl of Pembroke, the eldest brother of the husband of Marjory of Scotland.
Chapter Fifteen.
At Last.
“Joy for the freed one! She might not stay
When the crown had fallen from her life away:
She might not linger, a weary thing,
A dove with no home for its broken wing,
Thrown on the harshness of alien skies,
That know not its own land’s melodies.
From the long heart-withering early gone,
She hath lived—she hath loved—her task is done!”
Felicia Hemans.
“Now, Sir John de Averenches, what on earth dost thou want?”
“Is there no room, Damsel?”
“Room! There is room enough for thee, I dare say,” replied Eva, rather contemptuously. She looked down on Sir John supremely for four reasons, which in her own eyes at least were excellent ones. First, he was rather short; secondly, he was very silent; thirdly, he was not particularly handsome; and lastly (and of most import), he had remained proof against all Eva’s attractions.
“I thank thee,” was all he said now; and he walked into Margaret’s bower, where he took a seat on the extreme end of the settle, and never said a word to any body whilst he stayed.