The Bishop did all he could to help them. He found them a tenant for the house, lent them money—all his money not spent on real necessaries was either lent or given to such as needed it more than he did; and at last he sent them southwards on his own horses, and in charge of three of his servants. From Lincoln to Windsor was a five days’ journey of rather long stages; and when at last they reached the royal borough, simple—minded Agnes had begun to feel as if no further power of astonishment were left in her mind.
“Dear, I never thought the world was so big!” she had said before they left Grantham; and when they arrived at Aylesbury, her cry was—“Eh, what a power of folks be in this world!”
Old Muriel took her journey, as she did everything, calmly. She, like Bishop Grosteste himself, lived too much with God to be easily startled or overawed by the grandeur of man. Avice was in a state of excitement and delight through the whole time.
They slept at a small inn; and the next morning, one of the Bishop’s servants, who had received his orders beforehand, took up to the Castle a letter from his master, and waited to hear when it would please the Queen to see them. He came back in an hour, with the news that the Queen would receive them that afternoon.
Agnes was in a condition of restless flutter till the time came. Then they dressed themselves in their very best, and Luke, the Bishop’s servant, took them up to the Castle.
If Agnes had felt confused at the mere idea of her interview, she found the reality still more overwhelming than she expected. The first thing she realised was that she stood in an immense hall, surrounded by what seemed to her a crowd of very smart gentlemen. Then they were led through passages and galleries, upstairs and downstairs, till Agnes felt as though she could never hope to find her way back; and at last, in a very handsome room, where the walls were covered with painting, and the furniture upholstered in silk, they came into the midst of a second crowd of very grand ladies. By this time poor Agnes had quite lost her head; and when one of the fine ladies asked her what she wanted, she could only drop a succession of courtesies and look totally bewildered. Old Muriel managed better.
“Under your leave, Madam, we have been sent for by my Lady the Queen.”
“Oh, are you the people who come about the nurses’ place?” said the young lady, who looked good-natured enough. “Follow me, and I will lead you to the Queen’s chamber.”
How many more chambers can there be? was the wonder uppermost in the mind of Agnes. But they walked through several more, each to her eyes grander than the last, painted, with stained glass windows, and silk-covered furniture. At length the young lady desired them to wait a moment where they were, while she took in their names to the Queen. She drew back a crimson silk curtain, and disappeared behind it; and the three—for they had never thought of leaving Avice behind—stood looking round them in admiring astonishment. They were not left to wonder long. The curtain was drawn back, and the voice of some unseen person bade them go forward.
They found themselves in a smaller room than the last, beautifully decorated. The walls were painted a very pale blue, and large frescoes ornamented each side of the chamber. Thick marble columns, highly polished, jutted out into the room, and in the recess between each pair was a marble bench, with cushions of crimson samite. Two walnut-wood chairs, furnished with crimson samite cushions, stood in the middle of the room. Small leaf-tables were fixed to the walls here and there. The floor was of waxed wood, very slippery to tread upon. At the farther side of the room two doors stood open, side by side, the one leading to a little oratory in the turret, the other to a balcony which ran round the tower. In one corner a young lady sat at an embroidery frame, and in another a little girl of seven years old, who deeply interested Avice, was feeding her pet peacock. In one of the chairs, with some fancy work in her hand, sat a lady whose age was about twenty-eight, and whose rich dress of gold-coloured samite, and the gold and pearl fillet which bound her hair, divided Avice’s attention with the child and the peacock. Agnes was dropping flurried courtesies to everybody at once. Muriel, who seemed to have a much better notion of what she ought to do, took a step forward, and knelt before the lady who sat in the chair.