The fourth day of the queen’s presence at Haddon Hall was the one appointed for the visit of the Stanleys, and Sir George thought to make a great event of the betrothal by having the queen act as a witness to the marriage contract.  As the day approached Sir George became thoughtful, while Dorothy grew gleeful.  The girl was frequently seen with Leicester, and Sir George could not help noticing that nobleman’s pronounced admiration for his daughter.  These exhibitions of gallantry were never made in the presence of the queen.  The morning of the day when the Stanleys were expected Sir George called me to his room for a private consultation.  The old gentleman was in a state of excitement, not unmixed with perplexity and trouble.

He said, “I have great and good news to impart to you, Malcolm; yet I am in a dilemma growing out of it.”

“Tell me the good news first, Sir George,” I replied.  “The dilemma may wait.”

“Is Doll a very beautiful girl?” he asked eagerly.

“I believe she is the most beautiful woman in the world,” I answered.

“Good, good,” he replied, rubbing his hands.  “Is she so fascinating, brilliant, and attractive, think you—­of course I speak in jest—­but think you she might vie with the court ladies for beauty, and think you she might attract—­for the sake of illustration I will say—­might she attract a man like Leicester?”

“Unless I am much mistaken,” I answered, “Leicester is over his ears in love with the girl now.”

“Ah, do you believe so, Malcolm?” replied Sir George, laughing and slapping his thigh, as he walked to and fro across the room.  “You have seen so much of that sort of thing that you should know it when it comes under your nose.  Eh, Malcolm, eh?”

“I should suppose that any one, however inexperienced in such matters, could easily see Leicester’s infatuation for Dorothy.  If you wish me to tell you what I really believe—­”

“I do, I do,” interrupted Sir George.

“I should say,” I continued, “that Dorothy has deliberately gone in for conquest.  Leave the girl to herself, Sir George.  She can conduct the campaign without help from any one.  She understands the art of such warfare as well as if she were a veteran.”

“Gad, but she does, but she does.  I believe she could give Venus herself some good points in the matter.  But let me tell you, Malcolm,”—­the old man dropped his voice to a whisper,—­“I questioned Doll this morning, and she confessed that Leicester had spoken words of love to her.  Would it not be a great match for our house?”

He said “our house,” mind you, not “our Doll.”  I might call his condition of mind patrimonial selfishness.  Simple old man!  He did not know that words of love are not necessarily words of marriage.

“Has Leicester spoken to you?” I asked in alarm for John’s sake.

“No, no, he has not spoken,” returned my cousin; “for that, of course, he must have the queen’s consent.  But he will speak, I am sure, all in good time, Malcolm, all in good time.”