Richard de Montfort looked as if he would cry himself, and so Mother Eunice put a comforting hand on his arm. "It is always hard for the little ones the first time," she said. "We will take very good care of the demoiselle Eleanore, my lord."

"Elf," he said. "We call her Elf. Perhaps if you could call her that for a short time, it would help her to adjust. With Mother gone, I could not take care of her, Reverend Mother. “I could not!"

"Of course you could not, my lord. Do not fret yourself. We have several young girls in our care at this time. One is your sister’s age. She came to us when she was three. Another maiden is a year older than Eleanore… Elf." She smiled at him. "I understand that congratulations are in order, my lord, and that you will soon take a wife." She had reassured him, and then neatly turned the subject.

"The demoiselle Isleen is not quite fit to be a wife, but her mother assures me it will be within a year at the most," he answered. How anyone could believe that a girl as sensuous as Isleen was not yet ready for marriage baffled him, but he could hardly question Lady de Warenne.

The nun, too, was equally surprised, but her face showed nothing. Isleen de Warenne had been at St. Frideswide’s for a year, and a more carnal girl the Reverend Mother Eunice had never met. The convent had been most relieved her stay was a short one, however it had had its benefits. The de Warennes had been generous, and on their recommendation the convent had little Eleanore de Montfort and her dowry. "I am certain that Lady de Warenne knows what is best for her daughter, my lord de Montfort. Now, however, I must bid you farewell. I would suggest that you wait several months before visiting your sister. It will give her the time she will need to acclimate herself to her new life. Come at Martinmas, if you can. You will be most welcome." Then with a nod the Reverend Mother Eunice turned and glided serenely through the convent gates, which closed slowly behind her with a very firm thunk as the bar was set in place.