clear, sweet musical voice the Psalms for the second
evening of the month.

The sun, entering at the west door, caught his 'amber locks' and made them
glow like an aureole round his head, as he lifted it with glad assurance
when the words left his lips.

'But my trust is in Thy mercy, and my heart is joyful in Thy salvation. I
will sing of the Lord because He hath dealt so lovingly with me; yea, I
will praise the name of the Lord Most Highest.'

Those who saw Sir Philip Sidney that day, recalled him as he stood in the
old oaken stall, only one short year later, when, with bowed head and sad
hearts, they could but pray in the words of the Collect for the week, 'that
they might follow the blessed saints in all virtuous and godly living, that
they might come to those unspeakable joys which are prepared for them that
love God.'

Sir Philip had not time to delay, though the Dean hurried after the service
to greet him and to offer hospitality.

'I must be on my road to London,' he said, 'for a great event awaits me
there, Mr Dean--the baptism of my little daughter, to whom the Queen is
graciously pleased to stand godmother.'

'And God give you a safe journey, Sir Philip, and bless the child,' the
kindly Dean said. 'How fares it with the daughter of my good friend Sir
Francis Walsingham? I trust she is well recovered.'

'Fairly well,' Sir Philip replied. 'She is young and somewhat fragile, but
I trust will soon be able to join me at Flushing.'

After the exchange of a few more kindly words and congratulations, Sir
Philip Sidney was leaving the Cathedral, when a figure, still kneeling in
the nave, arrested his attention, and as his footsteps drew near, the bowed
head was raised, and Sir Philip saw it was Lucy Forrester.

He passed on, but lingered outside for a few moments, till, as he expected,
Lucy came out.

'I am glad to see you once more,' Sir Philip said; 'if only to bid you
farewell, and to assure you I will not fail to track out the villain, who
may, at least, give me tidings of Mistress Gifford's boy. I will see her
also, if possible.'

'You are very good, sir,' Lucy said.

But she moved on with quick steps towards St Anne's Gateway.

'Have you aught that I can convey to Mistress Gifford? If so, commit it to
my care at Penshurst, whither, I suppose, you go with the Countess on the
morrow or next day. Then we shall meet again--so now, farewell.'

Years had passed since Lucy had subdued the tumultuous thr