eed say no more Latin prayers; you are
with me, your own mother, on earth.'

The wave of remembrance grew stronger, and, after a moment's pause, Ambrose
said,--

'Ned brought me two speckled eggs. The hawk caught the poor little bird;
the cruel hawk. Where am I? _Ave Maria, ora pro nobis._'

'Say rather, dear child, "Dear Father in heaven, bless me, and keep me."'

'Yes, yes; that is the prayer I said by--'

'_Me_--me, your own mother.'

The long-deferred hope was at last fulfilled, and Mary Gifford tasted the
very fruit of the tree of life, as Ambrose, with full consciousness, gazed
long and earnestly at her, and said,--

'Yes, you are my mother, my own mother; not a dream.'

'Ah! say it again, my child, my child.'

'My own mother,' the boy repeated, raising his thin hand and stroking his
mother's face, where tears were now running down unchecked, tears of
thankfulness; such as, for many a long year, she had never shed.

With such bliss the stranger cannot intermeddle; but mothers who have had a
child restored to them from the very borders of the unseen land will know
what Mary Gifford felt.

CHAPTER XIV

WHAT RIGHT?

'Her look and countenance was settled, her face soft, and almost
still, of one measure! without any passionate gesture or violent
motion, till at length, as it were, awakening and strengthening
herself, "Well," she said, "yet this is best; and of this I am
sure, that, however they wrong me, they cannot overmaster God. No
darkness blinds His eyes, no gaol bars Him out; to whom else
should I fly but to Him for succour."'--_The Arcadia._

The Countess of Pembroke was sitting in the chamber which overlooked the
pleasance at Penshurst and the raised terrace above it, on a quiet autumn
day of the year of 1586.

She had come to her early home to arrange the letters and papers which her
mother, Lady Mary, had committed to her care on her deathbed.

There were other matters, too, which demanded her attention, and which the
Earl was only too glad to help her to settle; he was now in London for that
purpose.

There were many difficulties to meet in the division of the property, and
Sir Henry had been so terribly hampered by the want of money, that debts
sprang up on every side.

Lady Pembroke had great administrative power, and, added to her other
gifts, a remarkable clearheadedness and discernment.

The sombre mourning which she wore accentuat