Sir Julian paid no heed to aught save Mistress Penwick’s brave colour as it came and went, and the fervour of her eyes as they looked into his.  He came nearer to being shaken than ever before in his twenty odd years of slow and fast living.

“If I might be so honoured by the privilege, I would present thy desire straightway to the Duchess here, who would no doubt place thee at once at court.”  Mistress Penwick arose, unable to contain her perturbed spirit, and said,—­

“Sir Julian, how can I ever—­” and she stopped, so stirred was she with her emotion; very much as a child is wrought to wonderment by the sight of a marvelous toy.  Julian offered his arm, and they sauntered up and down the room, Sir Julian boldly playing his part.  If Katherine had been less innocent, she might have seen that he was not sincere.  He said: 

“I see no reason why thou shouldst not begin preparation at once for thy journey.  The Duke is progressing finely and her Grace could perhaps accompany thee as well now as at another time.  Wilt thou prepare at once, Mistress Penwick?” If the king had already sent for her, he could not have talked with more confidence; but there was something he must know.  As he insisted on an immediate journey, she turned scarlet, and bit her lip, and frowned.

“There are a few matters I must see to; I could hardly leave within a week;—­there is no hurry!”

“On the contrary there is a great hurry, for I must leave at once, and I would escort thee.  I think I shall leave by dawn to-morrow.”  Katherine’s brow puckered still more as she stood upon the seesaw of duty and ambition, perplexed to know which way to turn.  It appeared the better quality was innate and her brow cleared, as she said,—­

“’Twould be impossible to go so soon.  I could not ask her Grace to leave when the Duke is so ill; for, beside a long journey, much time might be required ere I should be presented.  I must have time—­a lady should have a great number to attend her—­”

“Thou hast a host in thy nurse, Janet; she is quite enough for the journey, and at London there will be a matron for each finger of thy hand.  I can see no reason why thou shouldst not start at once, if the Duchess so decides.”  They were quite alone now, and Katherine, being well cornered and being young and given to confiding, felt so irresistibly drawn toward this man at her side, she looked up into his face and said,—­

“Canst thou not guess, after all thou didst see last night, why I am kept from going?”

“I cannot; methinks ’twould be a happy moment to say adieu to such scenes.”

“Then thou dost not know I am to wed Count Cantemir, Lady Constance’ cousin?”

“I think thy heart an alien to love; for if thou wouldst sooner become a Lady of Honour than wed one to whom thou hast ’trothed thyself, ’tis sure thou hast no love; ’tis caprice or—­what one wills to call it, and thou hadst better fly from a marriage that has not love in it.”