stooping back could not entirely remove the sense of fear which
she inspired in those around her. Her thoughts and memories went
back to harsher times, and she looked upon the England around her
as a degenerate and effeminate land which had fallen away from the
old standard of knightly courtesy and valor.

The rising power of the people, the growing wealth of the Church,
the increasing luxury in life and manners, and the gentler tone of
the age were all equally abhorrent to her, so that the dread of
her fierce face, and even of the heavy oak staff with which she
supported her failing limbs, was widespread through all the
country round.

Yet if she was feared she was also respected, for in days when
books were few and readers scarce, a long memory and a ready
tongue were of the more value; and where, save from Dame
Ermyntrude, could the young unlettered Squires of Surrey and
Hampshire hear of their grandfathers and their battles, or learn
that lore of heraldry and chivalry which she handed down from a
ruder but a more martial age? Poor as she was, there was no one
in Surrey whose guidance would be more readily sought upon a
question of precedence or of conduct than the Dame Ermyntrude
Loring.

She sat now with bowed back by the empty fireplace, and looked
across at Nigel with all the harsh lines of her old ruddled face
softening into love and pride. The young Squire was busy cutting
bird-bolts for his crossbow, and whistling softly as he worked.
Suddenly he looked up and caught the dark eyes which were fixed
upon him. He leaned forward and patted the bony hand.