To this Rolandine, who had always been rebuked rather for austereness
than for worldliness, replied--

"Alas, mother, you know that I cannot have a husband of my own
condition, and that I have always shunned such as are handsome and
young, fearing to fall into the same difficulties as others. And since
this gentleman is discreet and virtuous, as you yourself know, and tells
me nothing that is not honourable and right, what harm can I have done
to you and to those that have spoken of the matter, by seeking from him
some consolation in my grief?"

The poor old woman, who loved her mistress more than she loved herself,
replied--

"I can see, my lady, that you speak the truth, and know that you are not
treated by your father and mistress as you deserve to be. Nevertheless,
since people are speaking about your honour in this way, you ought to
converse with him no longer, even were he your own brother."

"Mother," said Rolandine, "if such be your counsel I will observe it;
but 'tis a strange thing to be wholly without consolation in the world."

The Bastard came to talk with her according to his wont, but she told
him everything that her governess had said to her, and, shedding tears,
besought him to have no converse with her for a while, until the rumour
should be past and gone; and to this he consented at her request.

Being thus cut off from all consolation, they both began, however, to
feel such torment during their separation as neither had ever known