“Her ladyship is ill, sir, I am sorry to say,” responded Will, taking off his hat.  “Mistress Vernon and Lady Madge Stanley are at the inn.  If you wish to inquire more particularly concerning Lady Crawford’s health, I will ask them if they wish to receive you.  They are in the parlor.”

Will was the king of trumps!

“Say to them,” said I, “that Sir Francois de Lorraine—­mark the name carefully, please—­and his friend desire to make inquiry concerning Lady Crawford’s health, and would deem it a great honor should the ladies grant them an interview.”

Will’s countenance was as expressionless as the face upon the mug from which he had been drinking.  “I shall inform the ladies of your honor’s request.”  He thereupon placed the half-emptied mug upon the fire-shelf and left the room.

When Will announced his errand to the girls, Dorothy said in surprise:—­

“Sir Francois de Lorraine?  That is the name of the Grand Duc de Guise, but surely—­Describe him to me, Will.”

“He is about your height, Mistress Dorothy, and is very handsome,” responded Will.

The latter part of Will’s description placed me under obligation to him to the extent of a gold pound sterling.

“Ah, it is John!” thought Dorothy, forgetting the fact that John was a great deal taller than she, but feeling that Will’s description of “very handsome” could apply to only one man in the world.  “He has taken Malcolm’s name.”  Then she said, “Bring him to us, Will.  But who is the friend?  Do you know him?  Tell me his appearance.”

“I did not notice the other gentleman,” replied Will, “and I can tell you nothing of him.”

“Will, you are a very stupid man.  But bring the gentlemen here.”  Dorothy had taken Will into her confidence to the extent of telling him that a gentleman would arrive at the Royal Arms who would inquire for Lady Crawford’s health, and that she, Dorothy, would fully inform the gentleman upon that interesting topic.  Will may have had suspicions of his own, but if so, he kept them to himself, and at least did not know that the gentleman whom his mistress expected to see was Sir John Manners.  Neither did he suspect that fact.  Dawson had never seen Manners, and did not know he was in the neighborhood of Derby.  The fact was concealed from Dawson by Dorothy not so much because she doubted him, but for the reason that she wished him to be able truthfully to plead innocence in case trouble should grow out of the Derby-town escapade.

“I wonder why John did not come alone?” thought Dorothy.  “This friend of his will be a great hindrance.”

Dorothy ran to the mirror and hurriedly gave a few touches to her hair, pressing it lightly with her soft flexible fingers here, and tucking in a stray curl there, which for beauty’s sake should have been allowed to hang loose.  She was standing at the pier-glass trying to see the back of her head when Will knocked to announce our arrival.