the set. It presented in a series of scenes the history of Sainte
Genevieve of Paris. In the first picture she was shown as a little girl
tending her sheep; then there were pictures of her at the various exciting
times in her life--her saving the people from the Huns, her staying of the
plague, her audience with King Clovis and finally her peaceful old age
among the people who loved her.

Eleanor was kneeling on the window-seat where she sometimes slept, her
bright braids falling over her white linen underdress and gown of soft
blue wool. "Mother," she said earnestly, "I wish I could make some
tapestry."

Lady Philippa was deftly drawing together the edges of a rent in an old
and magnificent gold-embroidered bed-curtain. "Have you finished your
spinning, daughter?" she asked.

"N-o, but it is almost done. Mother, I will spin twice as much every day
if you will teach me to do tapestry. Were you older than I am when you
learned?"

"Not very much older. Perhaps you might begin now. Finish your task while
I make this curtain whole, and we will see."

When her mother said she would "see," Eleanor knew that a favor was as
good as granted. She spun away to a happy little song that Collet, her
mother's maid, had taught her, and very soon the good linen thread was all
wound smoothly and the little spinster sat demurely watching the
preparations for her new undertaking.

First her mother opened the wardrobe chest and took out a strip of linen