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There was her son, too, the
young Philip.... Her eye saw clearer, and she noted the sombre magnificence
of the great room, the glory of the brocade, the gleam of silver. Was she
not the richest woman in all Bruges, aye, and in all Hainault and
Guelderland? And the credit was her own. After the fashion of age in such
moods her mind flew backward, and she saw very plain a narrow street in a
wind-swept town looking out on a bleak sea. She had been cold, then, and
hungry, and deathly poor. Well, she had travelled some way from that hovel.
She watched the thick carved stems of the candlesticks and felt a spacious
ease and power.
The Cluniac was speaking. He had supped so well that he was in love with
the world.
"Your house and board, my lady, are queen-like. I have seen worse in palaces."
Her laugh was only half pleased. "Too fine, you would add, for a burgher
wife. Maybe, but rank is but as man makes it. The Kings of England are
sprung of a tanner. Hark you, father! I made a vow to God when I was a
maid, and I have fulfilled my side of the bargain.


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