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"A certain lady would fain wit of you, Master, if you have at this present dwelling with you a daughter named Amphillis?" "I have no daughter of that name. I have two daughters, whose names be Alexandra and Ricarda, that dwell with me; likewise one wedded, named Isabel. I have a niece named Amphillis." "That dwelleth with you?" "You have had some thought of putting her forth, maybe?"
If Ricarda were trying to win Norman Hylton, would she be so base as to leave him under the delusion that she was a Neville, possibly of the noble stock of the Lords of Raby? Mr Hylton's friends, if not himself, would regard with unutterable scorn the idea of marriage with a confectioner's daughter. He would be held to have demeaned himself to the verge of social extinction.
She had not by any means concluded that process which is known as "settling down." On the contrary, she had never felt so unsettled, and the feeling grew rather than diminished. Even Alexandra and Ricarda had tried her less than her present companions, in one sense; for they puzzled her less, though they teased her more.
The act of Ricarda Altham was far more shocking in the eyes of a lady in the fourteenth century than in the nineteenth. The falsehood she had told was the same in both cases; or rather, it would weigh more heavily now than then.
"Come within, Clement, and eat a flaune," said Ricarda in a very different tone, taking up a dish of cheese-cakes from the counter. "When shall the jousting be?" "Oh, it makes no bones, Mistress Ricarda. Your sister hath no mind thereto, 'tis plain."
Her place at table was next below Amphillis, who was greatly astonished to be asked, as she sat down to supper "Well, Phyllis, what hast thou to say to me?" Amphillis turned and gazed at the speaker. "Well?" repeated the latter. "Thou hast seen me before." "Ricarda! How ever chanceth it?" The astonishment of Amphillis was intense.
"Forget not thine old uncle and these maids; and if thou be ill-usen, or any trouble hap thee, pray the priest of thy parish to write me a line thereanent, and I will see what can be done." "Fare thee well, Phyllis!" said Alexandra, and Ricarda echoed the words.
Ricarda was less excited and egotistical, yet she talked more than Amphillis. The Thursday evening came, and the three girls, dressed in their best clothes, took their way to the Dolphin. The Court goldsmith was a more select individual than Mr Altham, and did not serve in his own shop, unless summoned to a customer of rank.
"It shall be the richest and rarest show was seen this many a day, my mistress," replied Clement, having disposed of his first bite. "In good sooth, Mistress, but you wot how to make flaunes! My Lord hath none such on his table." "That was Saundrina's making," observed Ricarda with apparent carelessness. "Dear heart! That's wherefore it's so sweet, trow," responded Clement gallantly.
Ricarda was dismissed in dire disgrace; all that Lady Foljambe would grant her was her expenses home, and the escort of one mounted servant to take her there.
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