Thurstan, with a relieved air, subsided into his recess, and Alvena, with a rather abashed one, began to explain that no ermine could be had for the trimming of the blue satin dress.
“Then let it wait,” decided the Mistress—for this was Juana’s official title. “Alvena, set the child a-work, and watch that she goeth rightly thereabout. Sybil, sue thou me.”
The departure of Juana and Sybil, for which Maude was privately rather sorry, set Alvena’s tongue again at liberty. She set Maude at work, on a long hem, which was not particularly interesting; and herself began to pin some trimming on a tunic of scarlet cloth.
“Pray you, Mistress Alvena,” asked Maude at length—wedging her question in among a quantity of small-talk—“hath the Lady Custance brethren or sustren?”
“Sustren, not one; and trust me, child, an’ thou knewest her as I do, thou shouldst say one of her were enough. But she hath brethren twain—the Lord Edward, which is her elder, and the Lord Richard, her younger. The little Lord Richard is a sweet child as may lightly be seen; and dearly the Lady Custance loveth him. But as for the Lord Edward—an’ he can do an ill turn, trust him for it.”
“And what like is my Lord our master?” asked Maude.
Alvena laughed. “Sawest ever Ursula Drew bake bread, child?”
“Oh ay!” sighed the ex-scullery-maid.
“And hast marked how the dough, ere he be set in the oven, should take any pattern thou list to set him on?”
“Ay.”