As he rode up the high circular knoll on which the castle stood, his thoughts were on his brother and he wondered what mischief he was concocting now. Across the drawbridge under the portcullis into the castle he went where the Earl was waiting to greet him. John of Gaunt was the most powerful man in the land—under the King; and Richard as yet was but a boy.

It was the Countess who had brought up the subject of the de Bohun girls. She was their aunt and she was very interested in their future because she had heard a rumour that the younger was thinking of going into a convent.

They had eaten dinner and the minstrels were playing in the gallery; much good wine had been drunk and the conversation was of a desultory nature.

"You are my niece's guardian, my lord Lancaster," said the Countess. "I doubt not you would have been informed if Mary had made her decision to take the veil."

"I have heard nothing of it," replied John. "And I think the girl is too young to make such a decision."

"I doubt not," put in the Earl, "that she is being gently persuaded that the convent life is for her."

"Persuaded !" cried the Countess.

"Well," said the Earl, "look what Buckingham would gain by such a measure. Not a half of the de Bohun estates but the whole would fall to Eleanor. She is a lady with her wits about her, so I have heard. And Thomas has a nose for money. But, my lord Lancaster, she would need your consent."

"I should not give it unless it was the girl's own wish," John replied.

"I am glad to hear you say that," said the Countess. "She is ten years old. Girls of that age can be filled with ideals. They can make a decision before they understand what it is all about, particularly if they are discreetly jostled into it."

"I shall go and visit her," said John. "I shall see for myself what it is all about."

"I believe Eleanor is a very forceful young woman," explained the Countess. "When she sets her mind to something she works hard to get it. Mary is gentle—the beauty of the family. Such a pretty little thing. I confess I should hate to see her shut away with the Poor Clares. And think of all that money I"

"I am thinking of it," said John. "That is why I shall go to see her."

"It would be easier if it were not known that you were sounding her," said the Countess. "I have an idea. Would you like to hear it?"

"We are all ears," said the Earl. "Is that not so, my lord Lancaster?"

John nodded, smiling.

"Why should I not ask Mary to Arundel? That will arouse little comment. I shall tell her we all want to see our nieces. There is no reason why I should not bring her to see her Uncle Richard. I will ride to Pleshy and bring her back with me. We shall have some merriment here in Arundel and we shall see whether Mary really wishes to give up the world for the veil. What think you of this plan?"

"It seems to me fair enough," said her husband. "What think you, my lord?"

John was thoughtful. An idea had come to him. He did not speak for a moment, and the Countess prompted: "Well, my lord Lancaster?"

"I like this plan," he said. "It would be a weight off my mind to know that she was not being forced into the life. I wish to see the girl ... away from her sister and the influence of Thomas. I want to judge for myself what is best for her"

"Then I will go to Pleshy and when Mary is here, my lord, I will send you word"

John was smiling. He liked the idea. He liked it very much.

Eleanor received her aunt with a certain gracious dignity.

She gives herself airs since she married into royalty, thought the Countess, smiling inwardly. She did not like Eleanor. The girl was too proud, too ambitious. Mary was quite different, charming and pretty. The Countess was glad young Mary had managed to acquire all the good looks.

"My dear Eleanor," she cried, "it is long since I saw you. Marriage suits you, my dear. One baby in the nursery and another on the way. I'll vow Thomas wants a boy this time"

"We are hoping for a boy," replied Eleanor.

"Is there news of Thomas?"

"None. You know how difficult it is to get news from France."

"Doubtless the child will be born by the time he returns. A reward for his services to the King."

"He is not likely to get any other."

"Oh come, Richard is grateful to his uncles."

"Not to Thomas."

The Countess laughed lightly. "It is a pleasure to see you so contented with your marriage. And Mary, how is she?"

"She is devoted to the nuns. It was so fortunate that the convent is so close to the castle. It means that we have her with us and she can at the same time indulge in her pleasure to be within the convent."

"It was most convenient that you chose to come to Pleshy," commented the Countess. "It might have been one of your castles or that draughty house that was your father's in the Dowgate Ward of London."

"You mean Cole Harbour. Yes, Pleshy is just the right place for Mary, and I am ready to stay here for that reason. I like to see my little sister contented."

"As she is, I believe."

"Oh very. People are fortunate when they are almost born with the knowledge of what they want in life."

"You mean the convent for Mary. I agree with you. It is very fortunate. I look forward to seeing Mary while I am here."

"Of a certainty you will."

I am determined on it, thought the Countess, for it is the object of my visit.

Later that day she did see Mary.

She thought: The child is truly a beauty. It would be a pity if she were shut away in a convent just because her greedy sister and her avaricious brother-in-law want her share of the de Bohun fortune.

She was very cautious, being eager to give no sign to Eleanor that she was in the slightest degree averse to Mary's future in the convent.

She mentioned more than once the great admiration she had for the Poor Clares and the wonderful work they were doing.

Mary spoke glowingly of them and Eleanor purred like a contented cat.

The Countess said: "Your uncle Richard was saying that he should so like to see you. I told him that I would persuade you to come back to Arundel with me for a short visit. He said: I so long to see my dear nieces."

"I am scarcely in a condition to travel" Eleanor pointed out.

"Alas, that is so" agreed the Countess. "Mary could come though."

Mary cried: "I should so much like that."

Eleanor looked a little taken aback but before she could speak the Countess said firmly: "Then so it shall be. We will set out tomorrow."

Eleanor said: "Mary, you will not wish to leave your studies"

"But Eleanor, it will only be for a short visit. I long to go."

"Then you shall, dear niece," said the Countess quickly. "Later on, when you have the baby, Eleanor, you will come to see your uncle I know."

"Cannot he come here, my lady?"

"He will, of a certainty he will. But he has asked me so particularly to take you both back with me. He did not think that you would be unfit to travel. Men do not understand these things. I must take one of you back. Mary, we must leave early. It is a long journey and I wish for an early start."

Mary was clearly excited at the prospect of the visit and Eleanor could only shrug her shoulders.

It would be but for a few days and their aunt was clearly in favour of Mary's taking the veil. Perhaps she would help to persuade her.

There was no need to worry.

It was exciting riding to Arundel with her aunt. Mary had forgotten how beautiful the Sussex countryside was. She could smell the sea and she remembered that the castle was only a short distance from the coast. The Countess had been talking about the pleasures of Arundel and the new dances and songs of which Mary had some knowledge because none could enjoy social life more than Eleanor and Thomas. There were often visitors at Arundel, explained her aunt. It was a great pleasure when they came with news of what was happening in Court. Not that she was ignorant of that, she was quick to add. Your uncle is in constant attendance on the King.

Mary did notice that, although while they were at Pleshy her aunt had talked a great deal about the Convent of the Poor Clares, stressing the good life led by the nuns, during the journey her conversation had changed considerably; and she seemed to be extolling the pleasures of life outside convent walls.

As the drawbridge was lowered and they rode under the portcullis and into the courtyard, the Countess said: "What joy there is in coming home. I always wonder when I return what will have been happening to the place while I have been away, what visitors we have had or who will be awaiting us. One of the best things in life is coming home."

She looked sideways at Mary on whose face was an expression of understanding and shared excitement.

It will not be the convent life for her! thought the Countess. Lancaster will see to that.

Into the castle went Mary, to the chamber which had been made ready, there to wash off the stains of the journey and to prepare herself to go down to the great hall where the appetizing smells which pervaded the castle proclaimed that food would soon be served.

One of the women of the household arrived to say that on the instructions of my lady she had come to help her dress.

My lady had set out a gown for her as her own would not yet be unpacked.

Mary was astonished at the splendour of the garment. The surcoat was of fine blue silk and delicately embroidered with birds and flowers. Under the surcoat was a less loosely fitting gown in a delicate shade of green; the sleeves of the garment made it in the height of fashion for from the elbow they hung almost to her knees.