Penshurst Castle

my hopes, my won

s enjoyed joy, ecl

ng thoughts! which q

ip's sacred league! u

Grevill

fs which had been torn at the edge on the previous day, when a pa

s very careful that there should be no billets passing between the young gentlewomen of her household and idle gallants about the C

and, if you will not give it to me, I will go to

nought to do but attend to the whimsies of chi

her curiosity was awakened to know who had written

l on which she was sitting with such violence that it fell with a crash on the floor, and, as it fell,

d went into the gallery which ran round the ho

ress Lucy? My siste

, her breast heaving with suppressed e

ared, and, seizing Lucy b

ou stop Mr Sidney? Return at on

seeking Mistress Lucy. Allow me to take her to the Countess's apartment

ce and manner had a

another opportunity of reporting Mistress Forrester's conduct to her. And, with a profound curtsey to Phili

not suffer me to have it. I was angry-' and Lucy cast down her eyes, the long la

inite delight that Mr Sidney was her friend

if, as I think, the letter contains news of y

Mary who is

that, her boy has b

readful man with the cruel eyes who scared me almost to death a mont

me, and Philip Sidney drew aside the over arras hanging

n the arras fell, and Lucy was called by Lady Pembroke to the further e

d will use every effort to recover the boy, who-may God help her-has been stolen from his mother. She is, I fear, very sick in body as well as mind, and I am debating whether it would no

s coursed each other down her cheeks, as much for her own disappointment as s

dy Pembroke said kindly. '

the letter in her hand, and, with a low

is to put me at defiance. Vanity and thinking of nought but gew-gaws and finery and looking out for admiration, don't go to make a bower-woman such as a noble lady like yourself might wish to

is moment; the news from her home may well cause her dismay and grief; leave

nd, as she left the room, murmured something about 'favourite,' whic

rt went out in pity towards poor Lucy, whom she had watched on the previous day, in the full flush of delight at her first

ell always to look at duty first, and strive after its performance, with God's h

ver, Madam!' Lucy ex

t must be understood that you be submissive to Mistress Crawley-an old and t

ll be submissive, only d

hought chiefly of her own pleasure, and how she could escape from the life at Ford Manor. And now that she had escaped, now that a bright future had opened before her, suddenly that future was clouded,

lled sooner than

letter had not been opene

's wishes; he is, as I know,

skilled in nursing the sick, Madam, I know. Goody Pearse, in the village, would t

er or her boy,' Lady Pembroke said. 'Now, cut the s

ner made her feel that she was not pleased with her, and, of al

w words on the piece

, and she is lying sick and sad. Hasten to get leave to return on the morrow with the gentlewomen and esquires, who are to reach Penshurst with

command, a

ey Ratc

alternative,' Lady Pembroke said, as she scann

f for Penshurst the morrow. Meantime, Lucy, return to your duties

I pray you, say I may return

d thither I may send for you, if, as I tr

till l

do not dismiss me

here are manifold temptations in this world for us all. We need grasp the hand of One who will not fail to lead us safely in

with passionate fervour, and then wen

was the topic of conversation am

heard the glowing accounts of the splendour of the entertainment there, related in trium

ace-mending, too proud to show her mortification, and yet inwardly chafing

e so suddenly snatched from it,' she thought. But her better self ass

aps inferior to her sister's, only wanted cultivation. She eagerly devoured any books that came in her way; and

lady of some fine house, surrounded b

h, so far above her, it is true; yet he was never too high above her to forget her presence. His smile was a guerdon which she craved to win; the glance of his grave, beautifu

em sad-sorry for her-when Mistress Crawley pursued her in the gallery? Did he not call her 'My poor child!' lo

at the charm he exercised was as subtle as it was irresistible. This charm increased year by year, and perhaps never was greater than at the time of which we are writing, when the strug

: 'He was not too high to stoop

Pembroke's city house watching the packing of the baggage, and awaiting the orders of

hat no one cared on which pillion she was to ride,

r shining hair, and defined the outline of her small, well-shaped head as she leaned against the doorway in listless deje

e servants, each wishing to have the honour of tak

ed and spurred, his red-gold locks-the true Sidney badge-falling over hi

e. Peace! I tell you, Mr Philip saith so. I am to ride Joan,

is brother who now came into the yard, 'Phi

ed as youngest children often are treated by the elders

o was always ready to stand his friend, when his elder broth

the saddle; nay, do not take the rein so slackly, and settle firmly in the saddle, nor use the stir

his governess's attempts to throw

ld be like to bite their heads off

n impatient gesture, and, in falling

sternly; 'nor forget the manners of a ge

's fair face, and, stoopin

tress Margery, but oh! I ha

the family to spoil the boy, of whom it was said that he resembled his

the refinement of his race he added indomitable courage and a

ers had ridden off,

ide, Mistress Forrester? Let

should care for her comfort, and, as we all

she heard Mr Sidney call a groom to bring up

ment, 'he has been a trusty servant, and will carry you safely, I know. But bring hither another cushion for

y to her place, sa

-day, it is but a feather's weight. See, place your feet on this ro

hen he remembered he had forgotten to fill the powder flask, for no horseman ever ventured o

by this gave Mr S

say Humphrey Ratcliffe has my freely-given permission to scour the country to find her lost boy. He will do so if he is to be found, and it

d gently on hers as he leaned against the horse,

my sister, the Countess, to be blythe and happy in learning all Mistress Crawley would fain teach you of handicraft, and still more

mounted to his place, and stil

mur a few half-inaudible words, as she looked down on the true knight who fille

d along the somewhat rugged roads on the way to Tunbridge, Lucy tormented herself wi

d all men who ever lived? I hear them say the Queen calls him "her Philip" and "her bright gem," and that he is the wisest statesman, and grandest poet and finest scholar of the age, and yet he is not too great to be good to me-little Lucy Forrester. And it ma

d her. I am a selfish hussy to feel this-selfish and hard-hearted! But, oh, was ever anyone more grievously disappointed than I am. A few sh

in this strain, in alternate

became oblivious of jolts and stoppages, of the fair country through which she passed, and was wrapped in profound slumber, her head resting against the broad back of the servant who held the reins, and urged on old P

o Tunbridge, and had heard from Dorothy Ratcliffe's father that the Papists' colony was sup

who had evaded pursuit, and were now thought to be beyond the reach of their persecutors. But neither from his old uncle, Edgar Ratcliff

ect the old man, nor indeed to be of any interest to the

y had won fresh laurels, and if the Queen was really going to wed with a Popish prince. This was wh

e sun. Artificial light was scarcely known in the farms and homesteads of country districts, and there was only one twinkling light

on, feeling reluctance to be the bearer of no good

usually dry, and Humphrey's horse knew the ford well, and easily ste

lness was profound. At the entrance of the lane leading to Ford Manor the horse s

outline of the grand old home of the Sidneys and the dark masses of the stately trees w

e to live, apart from Court favour and rivalries, in the stately home which was the pride, not only of the Sidneys themselves, but of everyone of their tenants and dependents on their wide-stretching domain. For Humphrey could not hide from himself that his chief was often sad at heart, and that sometimes, in uncontrollable weariness, he would say that he would fain lead a retired life in his beloved

er's alternations of sadness and cheerfulness, and, as he rode u

eart's desire, nor have it ever de

y cannot have; no impassable barrier rises between

casement above the porch was opened

goes

cliffe. I have an erra

ht. It is near midnight. Go your way, and

and Humphrey's ear, quickened by love, heard Mary's vo

rd says, "Do yo

f possible. I cannot spe

till the morrow, nor

mphrey but to pursue his way to his own home, whither George-who had parted

erly weak and broken-hearted, so forlorn and deserted-what if he again urged his suit!-what if she had now to tell him what had been at their last interview only a probability, an

with Mary, she found her, to her surprise, dressed, while Goody Pearse was s

k you had need of a nurse, to take a few more shillings out of my pocket, and here you are at five o'cloc

d was strangely unmoved by her stepmother's innuendoes, of

d asti

don on your account, losing a couple of days' work; and I warra

f Ned will help to carry me. I fear I

d take to your lawful business. It is a pretty thing!-one of you gadding off to town and thin

resence of Mistress Forrester. She expected a sharp reprimand, but Mistre

re I was ready? You'll have raging pa

ay to see Master Humphrey R

lifted Mary in his arms, and trudged down the creaking steps with her without a single halt, and placed her by her desire on the settle, where her leg could rest. Mary's smile was a suf

! I am sore to-day with the cramp I got a-horseback. Here is a letter from Master Ratcliffe; he

ge, brown fingers. But she had not opened it when Humphrey Ratcliffe himself came u

evere, nor the deep cut in her forehead, could hardly have left such traces of suffering on her

Ned,' she said, 'has faithfully performed his errand, and deserves our thanks.' Ned, bashful and

tle, and, kneeling by it, he took Mary's hand

n up and fled. Some of their number have been thrown into prison, awaiting judgment f

heard your voice; a

ped the boy, and regain possession of him. It is a

annot lose him. I must find him; and he will break his heart for his moth

leave to go on the quest to France, or, it may be, the Low Countries, for t

ef and despair years ago, I sent a letter to him for counsel. He was then in England, and acted a father's part by me, though only my husb

are for you, and we will seek together for our boy-mine as yours, yours as mine. We

said. 'Nay, it cannot be.

presumptuous though it may be, that you might give me a litt

'you do not know wh

and he bit his under lip t

er hand on his should

,'because the man who stole m

et, and said in a voice of

illain! I will run him through

-hoping the report was false. As soon as I heard of this man lurking about the countryside, a horrible dread possessed me. He asked Lucy to bring Ambrose to meet him-this strengthened my fears. From that moment I never let the boy out of my sight. Thus, on that morning of doom, I took him with me to look for the shepherd and the lost lam

mmitted him to safe keeping in the hands of his Heavenly Father-safe in Paradise from all sin. But now-now he will

stened, as Mary spoke

grief for the loss of her boy seemed a small matter

great rush of passionate emotion, Humphrey flung

if it were possible, you could love me. Why should you

s honest and steadfast love. But Mary Gifford was not a weak woman-swayed hither and thither by the passing emotion of the moment. Clear before her, even in her sorrow, was the line of dut

r strength, and sai

help me-the wife of Ambrose Gifford, and,' she paused, and then with

the lambs in the pastures seeking their mother's side, and the voices of the shepherd's children, who had come down to fetch the t

ruggle, but it w

eward which a good and true woman may ever expect sooner or

Forgive me, and in token thereof let us now procee

ith surprising calm

the boy, he would proceed to Arnhem, and enlist the sympathies and help of the good m

to his own son, but sure I have a right, and a right to save him from the hands of Papists. But I ha

ot daring to trust himself to say another word, he bent his knee again before Mary, took the long, slender han

hed cold water over her pale, wan face, calling her loudly by name; and, when at last she recovered, she scolded her for attempting to come downstairs, and said she had no patience with sick folk giving double trouble by wilful ways. Better things were expected of grown women than to

s!' she whispered; 'th

er large, red arms folded, looking with awe at the pallid face before her. 'She calls

the small diamond panes of thick, greenish glass which filled the lattice.

t me sleep, if

neglected, and Mistress Forrester, sharply calling Avice to mind her work, nor s

her best, though t

and ready character, and even in high circles, there was of

n a nomadic life, taking rounds in certain districts, and visiting at intervals lonely homesteads and hamlets, was obliged,

d that great requisite for a nurse,

ned over her, and smoothed the pillow at her head, and then proceeded to exam

ess Forrester had produced a bottle of sack from her stores,

in a low, pathetic voice; 'qu

d woman said. 'Sup it up, like a good child

miled

was I ever yo

afore long. There! you are better already, and Ned s

d again on her own bed, when quick footsteps

es it wi

watch at the casement

e for yourself,

stairs in a moment, and Mary,

Lucy,

were locked in

ck from all your pleasures, li

d the boy is found-for he will be found-Humphrey Ratcliffe will scour the world ere he gives up finding him, and Mr Sidney has

ry mention of him sent a pang through her heart. 'Let me look at you, Lucy,' she said presently. 'Turn your face to

ace grew

and quips to bear from old Mother Crawley. Yet, oh, Mary! when there i

iffe happy, then, with a pr

exclaimed. 'Nay, Mary-not

meone? Who is it, Lucy? I pray God

untry maiden of no account, when grand ladies were ogling him, and trying to win his favour, he did not think me beneath notice when he lifted me on the saddle this very morning, and covered me with a warm cloth, and bade me "God speed." If nought else comes-well, I will live on what I have had from him. The crumbs of bread from him are sweeter and richer than a feast from another. As

hings, but now I have an aim to be good and act in all things as my knight would have me. Oh, Mary, could you have seen him as he rode into the tilt-yard on Whit-Monday, in his blue and gold armour, sitting on his

e is to me what no one beside can ever be. There, it is out now, and I pray you do not despise me. I will be ever so patient now. I will do all I am bidden, and one d

and misery. For you, even though I think your dream baseless, and that you are feeding hope on what may turn out to be the ashes of disappointment, I will not despair. I know your idol is worthy, and love

y! I will try to comfort you. I will not think only of myself-I will think of you and all yo

ed Lucy's brown he

will help each other now a

. She had crossed the meeting place of the brook and river of womanhood and childhood. Some cross it all unawares-others with reluctant, lingering feet; some,

OK

orks be good, an

rk, why should

vain but when

fear that whic

ain than is th

man minds of

nceit an ugly

l, well viewed i

which dimmed wi

cern the dawn

leared, and n

but a step i

ld the bliss o

great loss we cannot

ilip S