"She shall have good entertainment here," said the Earl smiling. "No
doubt she hath already, as Sarum born. See that Goodwife Hall, the
white smith's wife, and her following have the best of harbouring,"
he added to his silver-chained steward.
"You are a Dacre of Whitburn," he added to Grisell. "Your father has
not taken sides with Dacre of Gilsland and the Percies." Then seeing
that Grisell knew nothing of all this, he laughed and said, "Little
convent birds, you know nought of our worldly strifes."
In fact, Grisell had heard nothing from her home for the last five
years, which was the less marvel as neither her father nor her mother
could write if they had cared to do so. Nor did the convent know
much of the state of England, though prayers had been constantly said
for the King's recovery, and of late there had been thanksgivings for
the birth of the Prince of Wales; but it was as much as she did know
that just now the Duke of York was governing, for the poor King
seemed as senseless as a stone, and the Earl of Salisbury was his
Chancellor. Nevertheless Salisbury was absent in the north, and
there was a quarrel going on between the Nevils and the Percies which
Warwick was going to compose, and thus would be able to take Grisell
so far in his company.
The great household was larger than even what she remembered at the
houses of the Countess of Salisbury before her accident, and, fresh
from the stillness of the convent as she was, the noises were amazing
to her when all sat down to supper.
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