TWO WOMEN--AND A MAN It was the forenoon of a Sunday, a dull, sleepy time in all countries, and one difficult to get overpast.

I was as usual busy with my accoutrement, recently bought with the loan of Master Gerard.

The Little Playmate was just returned from the cathedral, and had indeed scarcely laid her finery aside, when there came a loud knocking at the outer gate of the Red Tower.

Then one of the guard tramped stolidly from the wicket to the door of our dwelling.
"A lady waits you at the postern," said he, and so tramped his way unceremoniously back to his post.
I knew without any need of telling that it was the Lady Ysolinde.

So I rose, and hastily setting my fingers through my hair, went to the gate.
There, attended by the respectable servitor, was, as I had expected, the Lady Ysolinde.
"Good-morrow," she said very courteously to me, and I duly returned her greeting with a low obeisance of respect and welcome.
She wore a large garment, fashioned like a man's cloak, over her festal attire--which, with a hood for the head, wholly enveloped her figure and descended to her feet.
"I have come, as I promised, to see the Little Playmate." These were her first words as we paced together across the wide upper court under the wondering eyes of the men of the Duke's body-guard.
"Pray remember, Lady Ysolinde," said I, with much eagerness, "that I have as yet said nothing of the matter to Helene, and that my father only knows that I am to ride to Plassenburg in order to exercise myself in the practice of arms, before becoming his assistant here in the Red Tower and in the Hall of Judgment across the way." My visitor nodded a little impatiently.