lay her
beautiful head upon the block, as Anne Boleyn had done before her; and
Anne's death was now once more avenged. Lady Rochfort had been Anne
Boleyn's accuser, and her testimony had brought that queen to the
scaffold; but now she was convicted of being Catharine Howard's
assistant and confidante in her love adventures, and with Catharine,
Lady Rochfort also ascended the scaffold.

"Ah, the king needed a long time to recover from this blow. He searched
two years for a pure, uncontaminated virgin, who might become his queen
without danger of the scaffold. But he found none; so he took then Lord
Neville's widow, Catharine Parr. But you know, my child, that
Catharine is an unlucky name for Henry's queens. The first Catharine he
repudiated, the second he beheaded. What will he do with the third?"

Lady Jane smiled. "Catharine does not love him," said she, "and I
believe she would willingly consent, like Anne of Cleves, to become his
sister, instead of his wife."

"Catharine does not love the king?" inquired Lord Douglas, in breathless
suspense. "She loves another, then!"

"No, my father! Her heart is yet like a sheet of white paper: no single
name is yet inscribed there."

"Then we must write a name there, and this name must drive her to the
scaffold, or into banishment," said her father impetuously. "It is your
business, my child, to take a steel graver, and in some way write a name
in Catharine's heart so deep and indelibly, that the king may some day
read it there."

CHAPTER VIII. FATHER AND DAUGHTER.

Both now kept silent for a long time. Lord Douglas had leaned back on
the ottoman, and, respiring heavily, seemed to breathe a little from the
exertion of his long discourse. But while he rested, his large, piercing
eyes were constantly turned to Jane, who, leaning back on the cushion,
was staring thoughtfully into the empty air, and seemed to be entirely
forgetful of her father's presence.

A cunning smile played for a moment over the countenance of the earl as
he observed her, but it quickly disappeared, and now deep folds of care
gathered on his brow. As he saw that Lady Jane was plunging deeper and
deeper into reverie, he at length laid his hand on her shoulder and
hastily asked, "What are you thinking of, Jane?"

She gave a sudden start, and looked at the earl with an embarrassed air.

"I am thinking of all that you have been saying to me, my father,"
replied she, calmly. "I am considering what