arlour.
"Oh, that may never be, and--but how advantageth that poor Fulk?"

"Because, Lady Agnes--because it is to me that they would grant that
hand which I have so long loved passionately and hopelessly. Agnes, it
was not willingly, but at the command of the Prince, that I came hither
with a suit which must seem to you most strangely timed, from one who
has been the most unwilling cause of so much misery to you, whom, from
earliest years, he has ever loved more than his own life. I know, too,
that you cannot endure to rise on the ruin of your brother, nor could I
bear to feel that I was living on the lands of a kinsman and neighbour
whose overthrow I had wrought. But see you not, that jointly we can do
what we never could do separately, that, the condition fulfilled, we
could kneel before King Edward, and entreat for the pardon and
restoration of Fulk, which, to such prayers, he would surely grant?"

Agnes' tears were gathering fast, and she spoke in a broken voice, as
she said, "Eustace, you are the most generous of Knights," and then,
ashamed of having said so much, covered her face with her veil and
turned away. Eustace stood watching her, with his soul in his eyes;
but before either had summoned courage to break the silence, the
porteress came hurrying in, "Good lack! good lack! if ever my eyes saw
the like--here is the Princess of Wales herself at the gate, and all
her train--where is sister Katherine? where is the mother abbess?
Alas, alas! that nought should be ready to receive her! Oh, and I have
mislaid the key of the great gate!" While the good woman was bustling
on in her career, Eustace had time to say, "Yea, Agnes, the Princess is
come, in case you hear my suit favourably, to conduct you back to
Bordeaux. Think of a true and devoted heart, think of Fulk ere you
decide!" As he spoke, the whole train of black-veiled nuns came
sweeping into the parlour, whence Agnes hastily escaped to collect her
thoughts during the few instants before she could be summoned to attend
the Princess, while Eustace walked into the Convent court, which was by
this time filled by the gay party which accompanied the Princess.

Agnes quickly gained her cell, and sank down on her bed to make the
most of the minutes that might be her own. Never, probably, had lady
shorter time in which to decide, or did it seem more impossible to come
to a resolution; but Agnes had known Eustace all her life, had never
met one whom she though