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Updated: May 28, 2025
"Is this boy the son of the traitor Cendric?" asked the king, placing his hand on the head of the weeping Wilfrid. "He is, my gracious lord," replied Ermengarde. "He has been carefully brought up in the fear of God, and I, his widowed mother, will be surety to thee, that the boy shall serve thee truly and faithfully all the days of his life if thou wilt but restore him to his inheritance."
"I must have passed her on the way here," Betty decided at last, and rushed down-stairs again. As she went by the matron's door she almost ran into that lady, hurrying out. "Oh, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Kent," she said. "You haven't seen Ermengarde that is, I mean Janet Kirk, have you?" "No, not yet," said Mrs. Kent briskly. "I only heard about it five minutes ago.
"Other people have lived in worse places. Think of the Count of Monte Cristo in the dungeons of the Chateau d'If. And think of the people in the Bastille!" "The Bastille," half whispered Ermengarde, watching her and beginning to be fascinated. She remembered stories of the French Revolution which Sara had been able to fix in her mind by her dramatic relation of them.
I tried to coax him to go back, but he wouldn't for such a long time. I like him, you know; but it does frighten me when he sniffs right at me. Do you think he ever WOULD jump?" "No," answered Sara. Ermengarde crawled forward on the bed to look at her. "You DO look tired, Sara," she said; "you are quite pale." "I AM tired," said Sara, dropping on to the lopsided footstool.
It was pretty Ermengarde Muffel yonder by the fireplace who, after the dance at the Town Hall, assailed your godchild most spitefully with her sharp tongue. My friend Frau Nutzel heard her." "Ah, that dance!" said the magistrate, sighing faintly. "But the child was certainly distinguished in no common way. The Emperor Rudolph himself looked after her as if an angel had appeared to him.
Then the door opened, and Ermengarde came in, rather staggering under the weight of her hamper. She started back with an exclamation of joy. To enter from the chill darkness outside, and find one's self confronted by a totally unanticipated festal board, draped with red, adorned with white napery, and wreathed with flowers, was to feel that the preparations were brilliant indeed.
These ladies had been brought up in England from early maidenhood, but they were Scottish Princesses the eldest and youngest daughters of King William the Lion, by his Norman Queen, Ermengarde de Beaumont. Both sisters were very handsome, but the younger bore the palm of beauty in the artist's sense, though she was not endowed with the singular charm of manner which characterised her sister.
Janet's name was still on the program, for Roberta had sternly insisted that it shouldn't be crossed out; and as neither of the two Ermengardes was very well known to the college in general, only a few people noticed the change. But the part made a hit. "Isn't she just like some little girl who used to go to school with you that funny, stupid Ermengarde?" one girl would say to another.
She was a proud, brave little chatelaine, and dispensed generously the one hospitality she could offer the dreams she dreamed the visions she saw the imaginings which were her joy and comfort. So, as they sat together, Ermengarde did not know that she was faint as well as ravenous, and that while she talked she now and then wondered if her hunger would let her sleep when she was left alone.
Sara thought them enchanting, and painted pictures, for Ermengarde and Lottie, of labyrinthine passages in the bowels of the earth, where sparkling stones studded the walls and roofs and ceilings, and strange, dark men dug them out with heavy picks. Ermengarde delighted in the story, and Lottie insisted on its being retold to her every evening.
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