We went to Rutland, whence after a fortnight we journeyed to France.  There I received my mother’s estates, and never for one moment, to my knowledge, has Madge regretted having intrusted her life and happiness to me.  I need not speak for myself.

Our home is among the warm, sunlit, vine-covered hills of southern France, and we care not for the joys of golden streets so long as God in His goodness vouchsafes to us our earthly paradise.  Age, with the heart at peace, is the fairest season of life; and love, leavened of God, robs even approaching death of his sting and makes for us a broad flower-strewn path from the tempestuous sea of time to the calm, sweet ocean of eternity.

CHAPTER XVI

LEICESTER WAITS AT THE STILE

I shall now tell you of the happenings in Haddon Hall during the fortnight we spent at Rutland before our departure for France.

We left Dorothy, you will remember, a prisoner in her rooms.

After John had gone Sir George’s wrath began to gather, and Dorothy was not permitted to depart from the Hall for even a walk upon the terrace, nor could she leave her own apartments save when the queen requested her presence.

A few days after my departure from Haddon, Sir George sent Dawson out through the adjoining country to invite the nobility and gentry to a grand ball to be given at the Hall in honor of Queen Elizabeth.  Queen Mary had been sent a prisoner to Chatsworth.

Tom Shaw, the most famous piper of his times, and a choice company of musicians to play with him were hired for the occasion, and, in short, the event was so glorious that its wonders have been sung in minstrelsy throughout Derbyshire ever since.

Dorothy’s imprisonment saddened Leicester’s heart, and he longed to see her, for her beauty had touched him nearly.  Accordingly, the earl one day intimated to Sir George his wish in terms that almost bespoke an intention to ask for the girl’s hand when upon proper opportunity the queen’s consent might be sought and perchance obtained.  His equivocal words did not induce Sir George to grant a meeting by which Dorothy might be compromised; but a robust hope for the ultimate accomplishment of the “Leicester possibility” was aroused in the breast of the King of the Peak, and from hope he could, and soon did, easily step to faith.  He saw that the earl was a handsome man, and he believed, at least he hoped, that the fascinating lord might, if he were given an opportunity, woo Dorothy’s heart away from the hated scion of a hated race.  Sir George, therefore, after several interviews with the earl, grew anxious to give his Lordship an opportunity to win her.  But both Sir George and my lord feared Elizabeth’s displeasure, and the meeting between Leicester and the girl seemed difficult to contrive.  Sir George felt confident that Dorothy could, if she would, easily capture the great lord in a few private interviews; but would she?  Dorothy gave her father no encouragement in the matter, and took pains to shun Leicester rather than to seek him.