She is no termagant like
yours."
It was not polite, but Grisell had not seen enough of her mother to
be very sensitive on her account. In fact, she was chiefly occupied
with what she had heard about her own appearance--a matter which had
not occurred to her before in all her suffering. She returned again
to entreat Margaret to tell her whether she was so foully ill-
favoured that no one could look at her, and the damsel of York,
adhering to the letter rather young than the spirit of the cautions
which she had received, pursed up her lips and reiterated that she
had been commanded not to mention the subject.
"Then," entreated Grisell, "do--do, dear Madge--only bring me the
little hand mirror out of my Lady Countess's chamber."
"I know not that I can or may."
"Only for the space of one Ave," reiterated Grisell.
"My lady aunt would never--"
"There--hark--there's the bell for mass. Thou canst run into her
chamber when she and the tirewomen are gone down."
"But I must be there."
"Thou canst catch them up after. They will only think thee a slug-a-
bed. Madge, dear Madge, prithee, I cannot rest without. Weeping
will be worse for me."
She was crying, and caressing Margaret so vehemently that she gained
her point. Indeed the other girl was afraid of her sobs being heard,
and inquired into, and therefore promised to make the attempt,
keeping a watch out of sight till she had seen the Lady of Salisbury
in her padded head-gear of gold net, and long purple train, sweep
down the stair, followed by her tirewomen and maidens of every
degree.
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