with hers.  And when her full red lips parted in a tearful smile, showing a gleam of ivory between their curving lines, I knew that if our king were an unmarried man, she could be our queen, but barring that high estate, I felt sure that a score of titles and great fortunes would lie at her feet before she had been a month in Whitehall.  That is, I knew all this would happen if she kept her head.  The king himself would be her greatest danger, for in a way, he was handsome of person when he kept his mouth closed, and even a little beauty in a king, like a candlelight in a distant window, shines with magnified radiance.

I went to bed that night having great faith in my cousin’s strength and discretion, but my confidence was to receive a shock the next day.

CHAPTER II

A MAIDEN ST. GEORGE

After breakfast the following morning, while Sir Richard and I were sipping our morning draught in the dingy little library, he brought up the subject of the night before.

“As you justly observed, Baron Ned,” my uncle began, restraining his emotion as best he could, “sooner or later my daughters will have to face the world alone.  I am of no help to them now, and perhaps shall be no loss when I am gone, but it is like taking the heart out of me to send my beautiful girl to this unholy king; the wickedest man in the vilest court on earth.  But it must be done.  God help me and save her!”

“I will not go!” cried Frances, running into the room from the hallway, and kneeling by her father’s chair.

“I fear you must, Frances,” answered Sir Richard.  “There, there, we’ll say it is settled and let it rest a few days, so that we may grow used to the thought before making our plans in detail.”

* * * * *

After dinner I missed Frances, and when I asked Sarah where she had gone, I received answer in one word:  “Walking.”

“Alone?” I asked.  Sarah smiled.

In a moment I said, “I think I, too, shall go walking.”

“The Bourne Path is pretty,” suggested Sarah.

“Will you come with me?” I asked.

Again Sarah smiled, shaking her head for answer, and I set off, taking my way down the path which wound beside a rocky bourne, a distance of several miles in the direction of Hamilton House, one of the country places of Count Hamilton.

When I reached a point perhaps half a league from Sundridge, I saw a lady and gentleman walking leisurely ahead of me.  Her hand was on his arm, and his head was bent toward her, evidently in earnest conversation.  Her head drooped prettily, indicating a listening mood, and the two seemed very much like lovers in the early wooing stage.  At once I recognized the beautiful figure of my cousin Frances.  The gentleman I did not know, seeing only his back, though there was something familiar to me in the tall, straight form, the broad shoulders, and the graceful carriage of the head.  He was a cavalier, every inch of him, from his long, dark, slightly curling hair to the golden buckles on his shoes.  He carried his beaver hat in his hand, dragging the rich plume on the ground.