It is quite different to what I expected. He approves of all that Guy has done, and more,—he actually thanks him for acting so promptly. (Are we misjudging the man?) The King is in good health, and the Regent thinks he will very shortly do well to return to the Holy City, as soon as the autumn rains are well over. The Lady Countess, he says, is suffering greatly, and he fears the damp weather increases her malady. He speaks quite feelingly about it, as though he really loved her.
Early this morning was born dear Lady Sybil's second baby—still, like Agnes, a little frail thing; and still a daughter. But Guy seems just as pleased with his child as if it were a healthy boy. He is so different from Amaury!
Both Guy and Lady Sybil wish the infant to bear my name. So this evening the Patriarch is to christen her Helena,—thus placing her under the safe protection of the blessed Saint Helena, mother of the Lord Constantine the Emperor, and also of the holy Queen of Adiabene, who bestowed such toil and money on the holy shrines.
As if to show that joys, as well as misfortunes, do not come single, this afternoon arrived a courier with letters from Lusignan,—one from Monseigneur to Guy, another from Raoul for Amaury, and one from Alix for me. All are well, thank the saints!—and Alix has now three children, of whom two are boys. Raoul is about to make a grand match, with one of the richest heiresses in Normandy,—the Lady Alix, Countess of Eu. Little Valence, Guillot's elder child, has been betrothed to the young Seigneur de Parthenay. I am rather surprised that Guillot did not look higher, especially after Guy's marriage and Raoul's.
Guy asked me to-day when I meant to be married.
"Oh, please, Guy, don't talk about it!" said I. "I would so much rather not."
"Dost thou mean to be a nun, then?" asked he. I think he hardly expected it.
"Well," said I, "if I must, I must. But I want to know why I could not go on living quietly without either?"
"Ah, one of the original notions of the Damoiselle de Lusignan," said he. "Because, my eccentric Elaine, nobody ever does."
"But why does nobody?" said I. "And why should not I begin it? Every thing must begin some time, and with somebody."