“Was it Jane? I should like it to be Jane.”
“Jane? Now, perhaps, it was. Or Janice. I think it must have been Janice in those days. So we will call her that. Janice used to do her work early in the morning so that she might spend the afternoon sewing or caring for the garden flowers. Next to her father she loved flowers more than anything else in this wide, wide world. They were happiness, just as the song of the birds and the shining of Lady Rumdidoodledum and the other stars is happiness. Janice was so very happy that she never wished to have things changed. She wanted to go on forever caring for her father and living in the cottage by the Castle wall. True, at times, she thought of the lad who hoped to marry her some day, but he does not come into the story for a long time.
“One day, as Janice was sitting under a cypress tree, a handsome Knight came down the road, mounted on a splendid black horse. The stranger wore a blue satin jerkin, black knee-breeches, and stockings of blue. There was gold braid on his suit and a golden tassel dangling on his hat. From the brim waved a lovely grey-blue plume. Very straight he rode, and dignified, looking neither to right nor left. As he passed the cottage Janice looked up and saw that the black horse was very tired.
“‘Kind Sir,’ she said, and blushed at her boldness, ‘your horse is worn with the heat. May I fetch him water?’
“The Knight looked down and when he saw lovely Janice he swept his plumed hat to his breast.
“‘Lady,’ said he, ‘your kindness well becomes your fairness. If you will but show me to the well I shall thank you and carry the water myself.’
“Janice curtsied and led him through the ivy-covered gate, bringing a bucket to the trough for him. When he had filled it and would carry it out she took it up.
“‘Good Sir,’ she said, ‘you may spill it and harm your beautiful suit. I will bear it for you.’
“The Knight bowed. ‘Our Good Lady would be annoyed,’ said he, ‘were I to appear before her in disarray. It were best that I do not soil myself.’
“So Janice took the pail and smiled to herself at the conceit of the good Knight. While the horse drank the girl rubbed its silky coat and patted its neck. Then the Knight bowed again and sprang to his saddle. Janice curtsied and went in to darn her father’s sox.