Sir Richard shook his head and said she was in the right on't, and
should not be compelled. So Susan found herself making lame excuses,
which did not avert a sharp lecture from the Countess on the
cockering of her daughter.




CHAPTER XIX. THE CLASH OF SWORDS.



Festivals in the middle ages were conducted by day rather than by
night, and it was a bright noonday sun that shone upon the great hall
at Sheffield, bedecked with rich tapestry around the dais, where the
floor was further spread with Eastern carpets. Below, the garniture
of the walls was of green boughs, interspersed between stag's
antlers, and the floor was strewn, in ancient fashion, with the
fragrant rush.

All the tables, however, were spread with pure white napery, the
difference being only in texture, but the higher table rejoiced in
the wonderful extravagance of silver plates, while the lower had only
trenchers. As to knives, each guest brought his or her own, and forks
were not yet, but bread, in long fingers of crust, was provided to a
large amount to supply the want. Splendid salt-cellars, towering as
landmarks to the various degrees of guests, tankards, gilt and parcel
gilt or shining with silver, perfectly swarmed along the board, and
the meanest of the guests present drank from silver-rimmed cups of
horn, while for the very greatest were reserved the tall, slender,