And according to canon and statute law they were legally married, nor could anything short of a divorce part them again.
“Now then, go to bed,” said the Countess, addressing Doucebelle: “and beware, every soul of you, that not a word comes out till I tell you ye may speak.”
“Belasez, when wilt thou be wed?” inquired Margaret, the next morning. If the thoughts of the bride ran upon weddings, it was not much to be wondered.
“Next summer,” said Belasez, as coolly as if the question had been when she would finish her embroidery. There was no shadow of emotion of any kind to be seen.
“Oh, art thou handfast?” replied Margaret, interested at once.
“I was betrothed in my cradle,” was the answer of the Jewish maiden.
“To a Jew, of course?”
“Of course! To Leo the son of Hamon of Norwich, my father’s greatest friend.”
“Is he a nice young man?”
“I never saw him.”