sit moping, and Lucy had best
bestir herself, and, for her part, she did not know why she should sit
there as if she were moon-struck.'

The days were long over since Mistress Crawley had ordered Lucy, in the
same commanding tones with which she often struck terror into the hearts of
the other maidens, threatening them with dismissal and report of their
ill-conduct to Lady Pembroke.

Lucy had won the place she held by her gentleness and submission, and, let
it be said, by her quickness and readiness to perform the duties required
of her.

So Mistress Crawley, finding her adjurations unheeded, bustled off to see
that the maidens were not gossiping in the ante-chamber, but had returned
to their work.

Lucy was thus left alone with her thoughts, and, in silence and solitude,
she faced the full weight of this sorrow which had fallen on the house of
Sidney, yes, and on her also.

'What right had she to sit and mourn? What part was hers in this great
trouble?' Mistress Crawley's words were repeated again and again in a low
whisper, as if communing with her own heart.

'What right have I? No right if right goes by possession. What right? Nay,
none.'

Then, with a sudden awaking from the trance of sorrow, Lucy rose, the light
came back to her eyes, the colour to her cheeks.

'Right? What right? Yes, the right that is mine, that for long, long years
he has been as the sun in my sky. I have gloried in all his great gifts, I
have said a thousand times that there were none like him, none. I have seen
him as he is, and his goodness and truth have inspirited me in my weakness
and ignorance to reach after what is pure and noble. Yes, I have a right,
and oh! if, indeed, I never see him again, to my latest day I shall thank
God I have known him, Philip, Sir Philip Sidney, true and noble knight.'

* * * * *

There was now a sound of more arrivals in the hall, and Lucy was leaving
the room, fearing, hoping, that there might be yet further tidings, when
the Earl of Pembroke came hastily along the corridor.

'How fares it with my lady, Mistress Forrester? I have come to give her
what poor comfort lies in my power.'

The Earl's face betrayed deep emotion and anxiety.

Will came running after his father, delighted to see him; and in this
delight forgetting what had brought him.

'Father! father! I have ridden old black Joan, and I can take a low fence,
father.'

'Hush now, my son, thy mother i