“I see thine eyes are ever upon nature, and ’tis best if thy gaze can penetrate the heart as well.”

“Surely we have intuition, and I like not Constance.”

“How about my lord with the rose?”

“I like him.”

“Oh, impressionable youth! ’thou art the gilded sand from which the kiss of a wave washes every impress.’  Tune thy myriad atoms to imitate the rock, and gird thyself with strength to meet the battery of onrushing breakers that grind against thee!  Be careful, my Lambkin, fall not in love with the first handsome face thou seest.”  The music ceased; there was naught of sound, but a babble of voice and soft, gay laughter.  The guests passed up the grand stairway, and between the pillars that guarded the entrance to the vaulted gallery beyond.  Immediately beneath, where Katherine and her nurse sat, were Constance and her Mephistophelian consort.  The former was saying: 

“And thou dost say she is extremely beautiful?  In what particular is this queen of thine so entrancing, is it in face or form?”

“Her face is divine, and her form ravishes one with delight.”

“She is indeed fortunate to be such a goddess.  If she is a lady-in-waiting to the Royal suite she will depart to-morrow!” and there was relief in the supposition.  Constance continued:  “I saw my kinsman’s list of invitation, and among them all there was not one fitting thy description of this paragon, Adrian!”

“She had the bearing of a princess; she must be a person of note!”

“Adrian,”—­and she grasped his arm tightly,—­“dost think, thou knowing the ways of men, Cedric could have some bright being here to keep him from the dumps, and when guests are present, hides her in some remoteness?” There was more in Constance’ meaning than what she said.

“Nay, nay, any man would be proud to—­yet, if Cedric loved he would be very jealous!”

“Thinkest thou so?”

“I am positive.  To-morrow, Constance, I will watch the departure of the guests, and, if I find not the maid, I will let thee know, and we will pounce upon my Lord Cedric and have him bring her to our notice.”

“Nay, Adrian, I’ll tell thee a better way.  If she departs not with the company to-morrow, I will search the castle and find her; for I know every cranny.  I will bring about a meeting, so thou mayest beau her privately and win her love before Cedric knows aught; ’twill be a grand joke to play upon him, and ’twill pay him back for trying to hide from us the gem of his castle.”  They looked into each other’s eyes but an instant, and they each understood the other.

“’Tis a compact, Constance.  ’Twill be sweet to meet her in secret.  God grant she may be a member of my lord’s household!” Like a prayer Constance uttered after him, as they traversed the room to the great stairway,—­“God grant it may not be so!”

“Unlike Hamlet’s prayer, their words and thoughts both fly up, and to such a prayer they will undoubtedly receive an answer; but whether ’twill be satisfactory to the one or the other, remains to be seen, as the destination of their supplications was a long way this side of heaven—­” said Janet, as she wrapped her mistress in her grey convent cape and led her without the gallery.