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Katherine." It was the same level voice he had used with old Dorothy. "Before I go to Norfolk, there is something I have to make clear to you."
    Kate waited helplessly for the storm to break.
    "Did the Queen tell you the terms on which you are to live here?"
    "T-the — the — " Kate stammered. "No."
    Sir Geoffrey picked up the little pebble and stood for a moment turning it over in his fingers, and looking down at the courtyard. Kate, following his glance, saw that Christopher Heron had come out of the door to the hall below and was crossing the pavement. His head was bent; the afternoon sun glinted on the thick tawny golden hair. He went on past the dark archway to Lord Richard's tower, turned around a corner, and disappeared from view.
    "Her Majesty was very plain with me," said Sir Geoffrey, still in that level voice. "You are to be lodged and served like a lady of your rank, but not to go out of the park — there's no park, so we'll call it the village and a mile from the house. Do you understand that?"
    "Yes, Sir Geoffrey."
    "You are not to send or receive letters for any reason whatsoever."
    "Yes, Sir Geoffrey."
    "Your friends and your family are not to visit you, and you may not have other company except in my presence and with my express leave. That," Sir Geoffrey added, "means, at this time, Master John's leave. It will be his business to see to you as long as I am away. If you're in any doubt as to what you can do, go to him and he'll tell you."
    Kate swallowed hard. After her day in the forest, she felt no particular desire to go anywhere further than the village and a mile from the house — but the thought of being told what she could or could not do by Master John did rather stick in her throat.
    "When are you coming back?" she inquired hopefully. It might not be so bad if it was only for a couple of weeks.
    "Some time after All Saints' Day," said Sir Geoffrey, flicking the little pebble across the courtyard.
    All Saints' Day was the beginning of Advent, the first day in November, just after the harvest festival, and half the summer away.
    "Yes, Sir Geoffrey," she said, swallowing again.
    The old reluctant hint of a smile came slowly back into her guardian's eyes.
    "That will be enough of the yes-Sir-Geoffrey," he informed her. "And I don't want to hear any more of the no-Sir-Geoffrey or I-thank-you-Sir-Geoffrey either, my girl! I know I'm in a foul humor, but I'm always in a foul humor these days, and it's nothing to do with you. There! Now give me your hand and cry friends with me, can't you?" 
    Kate took an awkward step towards him. "I hadn't meant to gossip with Dorothy," she ventured to apologize. "It was only — "
    "I know that too." The big hand closed over hers and held it. "All I'm asking of you is to be a good lass while I'm away and mind your book and don't go cumbering your head with other folks' troubles. You know the old proverb that there's no sense meddling in what you can't mend? — Didn't your father ever say that to you?"
    Kate nodded a little doubtfully. "Well," she began, "he — "
    "Then you take his advice if you won't take mine. He has the name of being a wise man, your father."
    The corner of Kate's mouth quivered very slightly as she followed him meekly through the door of the long gallery. She had often heard her father quote that proverb; he said it was invented by fools to save them the trouble of thinking. " 'Don't meddle in what you can't mend!' " he would growl at her. "And how do you know it's past mending? There'll be time enough not to meddle after you've looked into the matter. At least you could try to satisfy your mind first."

Chapter IV
    The Holy Well
     
     
    Kate was sitting by the window in the long gallery, with her hands clasped about her knees, watching old Dorothy mend the frayed edge of a tapestry on the wall. Old Dorothy was a wonderful needlewoman, and in spite of her age did a great deal of work that she might better have left to the sewing maids, if, as