Grisell accordingly rebuked her the next time she delayed
unreasonably over a message, but the girl pouted and muttered
something about young Ralph Hart helping her with the heavy pitcher
up the stair.
"It is unseemly for a maiden to linger and get help from strange
soldiers," said Grisell.
"No more unseemly than for the dame to be ever holding converse with
their captain," retorted the North Country hand-maiden, free of
speech and with a toss of the head.
"Whist, Thora! or you must take a buffet," said Grisell, clenching a
fist unused to striking, and trying to regard chastisement as a duty.
"You know full well that my only speech with Master Hardcastle is as
his hostess."
Thora laughed. "Ay, lady; I ken well what the men say. How that
poor youth is spell-bound, and that you are casting your glamour over
him as of old over my poor old lady and little Master Bernard."
"For shame, Thora, to bring me such tales!" and Grisell's hand
actually descended on her maiden's face, but so slight was the force
that it only caused a contemptuous laugh, which so angered the young
mistress as to give her energy to strike again with all her might.
"And you'd beat me," observed her victim, roused to anger. "You are
so ill favoured yourself that you cannot bear a man to look on a fair
maid!"
"What insolence is this?" cried Grisell, utterly amazed. "Go into
the turret room, spin out this hank, and stay there till I call you
to supper.
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