sor were looking onward
and outward beyond the surroundings visible to others; and beneath the
calm determination of the expression was an underlying sweetness, which
shone out from time to time in the sunny smile which always won the
heart of the beholder. The figure was rather that of a man than a lad --
tall, strongly knit, full of grace and power; and a faint yellow
moustache upon the upper lip showed the dawn of manhood in the youth.
There was something in his look which seemed to tell that he had known
sorrow, trial, and anxiety; but this in no way detracted from the power
or attractiveness of the countenance, but rather gave it an added charm.

Griffeth retained his marked likeness to his brother, and was almost his
equal in height; but his cheek was pale and hollow, while Wendot's was
brown and healthy, his hands were slim and white, and there was an air
of languor and ill-health about him which could not fail to make itself
observed. He looked much younger than his brother, despite his tall
stature, and he blushed like a boy as he saw the eyes of the ladies
fixed upon them as they came forward, bowing with no ungraceful deference.

"Wendot, Wendot. don't you know me?"

The young man started and raised his eyes towards the speaker. So far,
he had only been aware that there were a number of persons collected at
the upper end of the long gallery. Now he found himself confronted by a
pair of eager, dancing eyes, as soft and dark as those of a forest deer,
whilst two slim hands were held out to him, and a silvery voice cried
softly and playfully:

"O Wendot, Wendot, to think you have forgotten!"

"Lady Gertrude!"

"Ah, I am glad you have not forgotten, though methinks I have changed
more than you these past years. I should have known you anywhere. But
come, Wendot; I would present you to my friends and companions, who
would fain be acquainted with you. They know how you saved my life that
day, I have told the tale so oft.

"Let me present you first to our sweetest Lady Eleanor, our great king's
eldest daughter. You will love her, I know -- none can help it. And she
lets me call myself her sister."

Young things have a wonderful faculty of growing intimate in a very
brief space, and the formalities of those simpler times were not
excessive, especially away from the trammels of the court. In ten
minutes' time Wendot and his brother had grasped the names and rank of
all those to whom they had been presented, a