One day in early summer lady Margaret was sitting in her parlour, busy with her embroidery, and Dorothy was by her side assisting her, when lord Herbert, who had been absent for many days, walked in.

‘How does my lady Glamorgan?’ he said gaily.

‘What mean you, my Herbert?’ returned his wife, looking in his eyes somewhat eagerly.

’Thy Herbert am I no more; neither plume I myself any more in the spare feathers of my father.  Thou art, my dove, as thou deservest to be, countess of Glamorgan, in the right of thine own husband, first earl of the same; for such being the will of his majesty, I doubt not thou wilt give thy consent thereto, and play the countess graciously.  Come, Dorothy, art not proud to be cousin to an earl?’

‘I am proud that you should call me cousin, my lord,’ answered Dorothy; ’but truly to me it is all one whether you be called Herbert or Glamorgan.  So thou remain thou, cousin, and my friend, the king may call thee what he will, and if thou art pleased, so am I.’

It was the first time she had ever thou’d him, and she turned pale at her own daring.

‘St. George! but thou hast well spoken, cousin!’ cried the earl.  ‘Hath she not, wife?’

’So well that if she often saith as well, I shall have much ado not to hate her,’ replied lady Glamorgan.  ’When didst thou ever cry “well spoken” to thy mad Irishwoman, Ned?’

’All thou dost is well, my lady.  Thou hast all the titles to my praises already in thy pocket.  Besides, cousin Dorothy is young and meek, and requireth a little encouragement.’

’Whereas thy wife is old and bold, and cares no more for thy good word, my new lord of Glamorgan?’

Dorothy looked so grave that they both fell a-laughing.

‘I would thou couldst teach her a merry jest or two, Margaret,’ said the earl.  ’We are decent people enough in Raglan, but she is much too sober for us.  Cheer up, Dorothy!  Good times are at hand:  that thou mayest not doubt it, listen—­but this is only for thy ear, not for thy tongue:  the king hath made thy cousin, that is me, Edward Somerset, the husband of this fair lady, generalissimo of his three armies, and admiral of a fleet, and truly I know not what all, for I have yet but run my eye over the patent.  And, wife, I verily do believe the king but bides his time to make my father duke of Somerset, and then one day thou wilt be a duchess, Margaret.  Think on that!’

Lady Glamorgan burst into tears.

‘I would I might have a kiss of my Molly!’ she cried.

She had never before in Dorothy’s hearing uttered the name of her child since her death.  New dignity, strange as it may seem to some, awoke suddenly the thought of the darling to whom titles were but words, and the ice was broken.  A pause followed.

‘Yes, Margaret, thou art right,’ said Glamorgan at length; ’it is all but folly; yet as the marks of a king’s favour, such honours are precious.’