It was a grand old church, too, with low-browed arches, reminding her
of the dear old chapel of Wilton, and with a lofty though undecorated
square tower, entered by an archway adorned with curious twisted
snakes with long beaks, stretching over and under one another.
The low heavy columns, the round circles, and the small windows,
casting a very dim religious light, gave Grisell a sense of being in
the atmosphere of that best beloved place, Wilton Abbey. She longed
after Sister Avice's wisdom and tenderness, and wondered whether her
lands would purchase from her knight, power to return thither with
dower enough to satisfy the demands of the Proctor. It was a hope
that seemed like an inlet of light in her loneliness, when no one was
faithful save Cuthbert Ridley, and she felt cut to the heart above
all by Thora's defection and cruel accusations, not knowing that half
was owning to the intoxication of love, and the other half to a
gossiping tongue.
CHAPTER XX--A BLIGHT ON THE WHITE ROSE
Witness Aire's unhappy water
Where the ruthless Clifford fell,
And when Wharfe ran red with slaughter
On the day of Towton's field.
Gathering in its guilty flood
The carnage and the ill spilt blood
That forty thousand lives could yield.
SOUTHEY, Funeral Song of Princess Charlotte.
Grisell from the first took her part in the Apothecary's household.
Occupation was a boon to her, and she not only spun and made lace
with Clemence, but showed her new patterns learned in old days at
Wilton; and still more did she enjoy assisting the master of the
house in making his compounds, learning new nostrums herself, and
imparting others to him, showing a delicacy of finger which the old
Fleming could not emulate.
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