d
still do you wear the dress of a page? Fie, Francis! art so enamored of
male attire?"

"Nay; Master Devereaux," replied Francis. "I marvel that I tell thee why
I do so, seeing that it concerns thee not, but I wish not to don my
maiden dress until my father bids me. How long that will be, I trow not,
since I have heard naught of him since I came to this place."

"Thy father dwells in France. He with some others of the conspirators
succeeded in escaping to that country."

"And Lord Shrope? How is he? Fain would I know, for truly he hath been
mine only friend in this dire time of need."

"Lord Shrope hath been in the Netherlands for nigh two years past,
Francis."

"Marry, child!" exclaimed Mrs. Shelton. "Then it could not have been he
who sent thee all those things."

"No; who, who could it have been? Methought in all England I had no
friend but him. Would that I knew the donor's name that I might cherish
it forever."

"'Twas thine enemy, Francis. Oh, stupid girl, where are thine eyes! See,
his looks betray him," laughed Mrs. Shelton.

"Was it thou, Edward Devereaux?" demanded Francis.

"Well, what if it were thine enemy, Francis? What then? Wouldst still
cherish his name?"

"Surely it was not thee, Edward Devereaux?"

"It was even I, Francis Stafford."

"But why, why?" asked she in bewilderment. "You are mine enemy and the
son of my father's enemy. Why then shouldst thou show such favor to me?"

"I robbed thee of that deer, Francis. 'Twas fitting that I should amend
the theft if possible." A merry twinkle crept into Edward's eye. "And
thou hast still to forgive me the blow I struck thee in our encounter."

"I should thank thee, Master Devereaux," said Francis constrainedly. "I
do thank thee from my heart, though I see no cause yet for thy action. At
another season perchance I may be able to thank thee in manner more
befitting the courtesy. I thought it from a friend, and it grieves me
that I find it otherwise. Pray you pardon me that I can do no more than
say, I thank you."

"'Tis enough," answered Edward. "At another season perchance thou mayst
find it in thy heart to say, 'Ned, I forgive thee the deer; I forgive
thee the blow that thou gavest me, and I forgive thee that thou art mine
enemy.'"

"It may be," said the girl coldly. "Come, good mistress, 'tis time that
we did go in. And so fare you well, Master Devereaux."

"Fare you well, mistress," answered Devereaux courteously.

CHAPTER XX