The evil custom of men prolonging the song, the wine cup, and the revel, after the table has been quitted by those whose presence softens and refines our coarser nature is of a very old date in this our land of England, and though certainly more honoured in the breach than the observance, has only been abandoned by fits and starts from the period of the Saxons till the present day.
At the early meal, which was called dinner in those times, such was not often the case, for every one started up quickly to pursue his business or his rude sports in the light; but after supper, when no occupation called them from the table, the baronage of England would frequently indulge in long revels, ending usually, especially under the monarchs of the pure Norman line, in scenes of the most frightful excess and disgusting licentiousness.
Henry I., though he did something to refine the people, and to soften the manners of his nobles, still tolerated every sort of vice in his court, and it was only with the sovereigns of The house of Plantagenet--though they themselves were often corrupt enough--that a certain degree of decency and courteous refinement was introduced which put a stop to the coarse debaucheries of the Norman race. Under Henry II., Richard, and John, amidst civil and foreign wars, a gradual improvement might be perceived, and even during the reign of the weak Henry III.--at least, by the time of which we speak--the high, pure character of his chivalrous son worked a vast change in the general tone of society.
Thus, though drinking and song, after the ladies of the court had withdrawn, generally succeeded to the evening banquet, yet the night never now terminated in those fearful orgies, to hide which altogether from the eyes of men, the second William had commanded that all lights should be suddenly extinguished in his palace at a certain hour.
On the evening in question, not long after the few words which we have mentioned had passed between Hugh and Lucy, the Princess Eleanor, with the rest of the ladies present, rose and left the hall, taking their way under the high gallery and through the small door which communicated with the royal apartments. As the Princess passed out she placed her hand gently upon Lucy's arm, saying--"Come with me, sweet cousin, I would fain speak with you;" and led the way towards her own chamber.
All her own attendants were dismissed one by one; and then, seating herself in a large chair, Eleanor beckoned her fair companion to take a place beside her. But Lucy quietly, and with that exquisite grace which is beauty's crowning charm, and she pre-eminently possessed, sunk slowly down upon the stool at the Princess's feet; and looked up in her face with a glance from which she strove hard to banish every trace of that impatience which was strong in her heart.
Eleanor gazed down upon her in return with a kindly and yet a thoughtful smile, keeping silence for nearly a minute, and then saying--"So you are very much in love, dear Lucy de Ashby?--Nay, do not blush and cast down your eyes, as if you thought I could doubt it, after your telling me and every body else that it is so, some five times during supper."
"Nay--nay," cried Lucy, turning round quickly with a look of alarm--"not so plainly as that!"
"Plainly enough for me to understand," replied the Princess, "and that is all that is necessary to talk of now. Edward told me something of this before, and I promised to ask if you knew what you were doing."
Lucy looked up again, but it was now with an arch smile; and she answered--"Right well, dear lady."