be boiled; and then there were those pastry concoctions which were known as raffyolys and flampoyntes. Everything that could have been thought of to make this a feast to outdo all feasts had been provided.

There would be a joust the next day but this one was given up to feasting and indoor merriment.

The mummers trooped into the hall in their masks, some of these so strange that they looked like spectral figures and sent shivers of horror down the backs of the spectators. They wore horned animals' heads and those of goats and creatures who could never have existed outside the imagination of the mask maker. Some of them wore masks of beautiful women which sat oddly on their square masculine bodies. But they were calculated to bring laughter to the lips of all who beheld them and this they undoubtedly did although some might have been overawed.

It was wonderful to see them dance and play their scenes in mime. The company applauded with gusto and then the dancing began. Henry led out Mary and others fell in behind them. Lancaster danced with the beautiful Catherine Swyn-ford; the company held its breath watching them and many thought—though they dared not give voice to such thoughts —that there was not a man in the kingdom now who would dare behave as John of Gaunt did. The old King had done it with his mistress Alice Ferrers. It was a King's privilege he would have said; but the people did not like him for it. In some way it was different with John of Gaunt. There was true love between those two and that being so obvious was something which must command respect wherever it was.

Then John of Gaunt took Mary's hand and danced with her while Henry danced with Lady Swynford. Her new father told Mary that he regarded this as one of the happiest days of his life. He wanted her to regard it as such also.

The torches guttered and the evening was passing. It was time for Henry to lead Mary away. His father restrained the people who would have attempted to carry out some of the old customs. 'They are young and innocent,' he said. *I would not harry them. Let nature take its course with them.'

In the great bedchamber which had been assigned to them, nature was taking its course.

Henry was advanced for his years. He was in love with his bride and because she was intelligent beyond her age it did

not occur to him to consider that she might not be physically mature.

He was glad that there had been no ribald jokes; Mary would not have understood them and they might have alarmed her. As it was she was entirely his to teach as he could, he beheved, so comfortably do.

Henry helped her remove the wedding garments, which jewel encrusted as they were were heavily uncomfortable, and it was a relief to be free of them.

She stood before him—a child in her simplicity. He himself took the loose nightgown and put it over her head.

Then he led her to the bridal bed; she lay down while he divested himself of his garments.

Then he joined her.

Gently with tender explanation he initiated her into the mysteries of procreation which for such as themselves, who had the continuance of great families to consider, was the primary function of marriage.

They set out for Kenilworth, for, as his father had said, Henry loved that best of all the Lancaster estates which would one day be his.

Mary was very happy journeying with Henry; he was kindly, loving and gentle and she had not believed there was so much contentment in the world. If she could but forget Eleanor she could be completely happy.

The sight of Kenilworth was breathtaking. They had travelled some way, for the castle was situated between Warwick and Coventry, being about five miles from each. It consisted of a magnificent structure of castellated buildings which owed their charm to the fact that they had been added to over the years, for Kenilworth had been nothing but a manor in the days of the first Henry who had bestowed it on one of his nobles and it was this noble who had begun the task of turning the manor into a castle. The keep was massive and was known as Caesar after that of the same name in the Tower of London. Kenilworth had the distinction of once belonging to Simon de Montfort and on his death it was bestowed by the King on his youngest son Edmund, Earl of Lancaster. Thus, like the Savoy, it had come to John of Gaunt through his marriage with Henry's mother, Blanche of Lancaster.

Henry told Mary that his father, who had taken a great ancy to the place since it had been in his possession, had jxtended it even more than those who had owned it before, md to prove this Henry pointed out to her the magnificent :xtension which was known as the Lancaster Building.

Kenilworth was a fairy tale palace ideally suited to a pair of ^oung people who were realizing the joys of getting to know ?ach other.

Mary would remember those days to the end of her life. She vas completely happy and it did not occur to her in the full lush of her happiness to question its transience. She did not ook to the future; if she had she would have known that a nan in Henry's exalted position could not revel in the joys of lewly married bliss in the castle of Kenilworth for ever.

They rode through the forest together—not hunting, for he had confessed to him that she hated to see animals killed md always hoped the deer and the boars would escape. Henry aughed at her but loved her more for her gentleness and he aid that as she did not care for the hunt they would look for he signs of the spring and not for the spoor of animals.

She did not care for hawking either; she liked to watch the )irds flying free. She would stand and admire Henry when he )ractised archery and happily applauded when he excelled hose in competition with him. She thought how fine he ooked when he shot at the target with his bow which was the ame height as he was and his arrow was one full yard long, rheir attendants played games with them. There was great iilarity over Ragman's Roll which was the preliminary to a nime. One of them would bring out a parchment roll on A^hich were written couplets describing certain characters; md attached to these verses were strings with seals at the end. Each player must take a seal and pull the string and then play ;he character whose description he had picked. There were ihrieks of laughter when this game was played for it always ;eemed that people chose the characters least like themselves. Mien they tired of mimes they would plav Hot Cockles in A^hich one player was blindfolded and knelt with hands be-lind the back. The other players would strike those hands and :he kneeling blindfolded player must guess who was the itriker before being released. Mary much preferred the games >f chess when she and Henry would retire to a quiet corner md pit their wits one against the other, or when Henry sug-

gested she should bring out her guitar and they sang and played together.

They were happy days indeed as the spring passed into summer but they could not go on for ever and one day a messenger from the Duke of Lancaster came riding to the castle with the command that Henry was to join his father.

It would only be for a short time, he told Mary. As soon as he could he would return or if that were not possible he would send for her to come to him.

She knew that she must accept this. She watched him ride away and desolation overcame her. She must try to be brave she knew. It was what happened to all wives. Their husbands could not stay with them for ever.

It was shortly after Henry's departure that she knew she was to have a child.

She was delighted, although she overheard her women discussing the matter in private and she knew that they shook their heads and melancholy looks came into their eyes.

One of them said: 'She's too young I tell you. It's not right for one so young.*