One may picture the poor soul taking the dear and wicked thing into the little chapel, laying it on the altar-stone warm from her vest, restoring it after office done to that haven whence she must banish its writer.

Fortified, she replied with, 'Alas, my lord, the way of liberty leads not to me; nor can I serve you otherwise than in bonds.

I pray you, make my yoke no heavier .-- Your servant, in little ease, Jehane.' This wistful unhappy letter gave him heartache; he could scarcely keep himself at home.

Yet he must, being as yet sure of nothing.

He replied in a second and third, a fourth and a fifth letter, which never reached her.