So she sat down, the good old soul, and Amice and I on stones at her feet, and she told us the tale. I will set it down just as I remember it.
"You must know, my children, that I was a giddy young girl in attendance on the Queen—not the Queen that now is, but Queen Elizabeth, wife of Henry the Seventh, this King's father—when I went with my mistress to make a retreat at the convent of the poor Clares, in London—"
"The same that Sister Catherine is always praising," said I.
"Yes, the very same; but don't you put me out. Where was I?"
"Where you went with the Queen to make a retreat, dear Mother."
"O yes. Well, I had been a giddy girl, as I told you, but I had been somewhat sobered of late, because my cousin Jack, whom my father always meant I should wed, had been on the wrong side in the late troubles, and was in hiding at that time. Now, I liked Jack right well, and was minded to marry none other; but I was a King's ward, my father being dead, and I having a good fortune. So I had a many suitors, and I knew the King was favorable to a knight, Sir Edward Peckham, of Somerset, who had come to him with help just at the right time. Now, I wanted nobody but Jack; but of all my suitors there was none that I misliked so much as Sir Edward Peckham!"
"Why?" asked I, much interested.
"Because I could not abide him, child. That was reason enough. Well, things being even in this shape, I was glad enough when my mistress made her retreat in the convent of the Poor Clares, and chose me to attend on her, out of all her train. That was a strict order, children. Matins at one o'clock in the morning—not overnight, as we have them here—no food till dinner at eleven, and no flesh meat even on feast days—almost perpetual silence! Well, it was always and ever my way to fall in with whatever was going on, let it be what it might; so I fasted and prayed with the best, and kept all the hours, till I was so tired I could hardly stand. In the midst of it all came a messenger to my mistress from the King, bidding her return to the Court in three days and bring me with her, for the King was minded that my marriage should no longer be put off.
"Children, I was like one distracted, and I was all but ready to cast myself away, body and soul. The Mother Superior marked my grief, and I was won to tell her the whole. She was an austere woman—not one bit like our Mother—but she was very kind to me in my trouble—"
"I am sure our dear Mother Superior is a saint, if ever there was one," said I.