Petronella was proving of so much use that the burden of her maintenance was not felt, and Sir Richard Trevlyn made generous arrangements for the cost of his daughter.

But there was something altogether quaint and curious in the life of the house, and Kate thought it exceedingly interesting even before the first evening had passed.
Yet all the while she was longing to hear Petronella's tale, and was glad when the tapestry work was put away, and formal good nights had been exchanged.

The girls ran up to the guest chamber prepared for Kate, which they had agreed to share together from that time forth.

It did not take them long to slip into bed; and old Dyson, the waiting woman, who also acted as housekeeper, came quickly in to see that the lights were safely extinguished, after which only the glow of the fire illuminated the darkness of the big room; and Kate in an eager whisper begged Petronella to lose no time in telling her tale.
With breathless eagerness she heard of the girl's flight from home, and of her rescue of Cuthbert from the very jaws of death.

She could not understand Petronella's shuddering horror at the thought of having killed a man.
"I would have killed fifty, and been glad to rid the earth of them were they such wretches as Long Robin!" she cried.
Then in deep silence she heard of Cuthbert's dive into the well, and of the golden flagon he had brought up as an earnest of what was to come.