“And now, loveliest, your wish is gratified, and you have seen your vassal in such of his trim array as accords with riding vestments; for robes of state and coronets are only for princely halls.”

“Well, then,” said the Countess, “my gratified wish has, as usual, given rise to a new one.”

“And what is it thou canst ask that I can deny?” said the fond husband.

“I wished to see my Earl visit this obscure and secret bower,” said the Countess, “in all his princely array; and now, methinks I long to sit in one of his princely halls, and see him enter dressed in sober russet, as when he won poor Amy Robsart’s heart.”

“That is a wish easily granted,” said the Earl—­“the sober russet shall be donned to-morrow, if you will.”

“But shall I,” said the lady, “go with you to one of your castles, to see how the richness of your dwelling will correspond with your peasant habit?”

“Why, Amy,” said the Earl, looking around, “are not these apartments decorated with sufficient splendour?  I gave the most unbounded order, and, methinks, it has been indifferently well obeyed; but if thou canst tell me aught which remains to be done, I will instantly give direction.”

“Nay, my lord, now you mock me,” replied the Countess; “the gaiety of this rich lodging exceeds my imagination as much as it does my desert.  But shall not your wife, my love—­at least one day soon—­be surrounded with the honour which arises neither from the toils of the mechanic who decks her apartment, nor from the silks and jewels with which your generosity adorns her, but which is attached to her place among the matronage, as the avowed wife of England’s noblest Earl?”

“One day?” said her husband.  “Yes, Amy, my love, one day this shall surely happen; and, believe me, thou canst not wish for that day more fondly than I. With what rapture could I retire from labours of state, and cares and toils of ambition, to spend my life in dignity and honour on my own broad domains, with thee, my lovely Amy, for my friend and companion!  But, Amy, this cannot yet be; and these dear but stolen interviews are all I can give to the loveliest and the best beloved of her sex.”

“But why can it not be?” urged the Countess, in the softest tones of persuasion—­“why can it not immediately take place—­this more perfect, this uninterrupted union, for which you say you wish, and which the laws of God and man alike command?  Ah! did you but desire it half as much as you say, mighty and favoured as you are, who or what should bar your attaining your wish?”

The Earl’s brow was overcast.