with whom he consorts. To-night
I met--who dost guess it was, Katherine?"

"Nay, I could never guess, for I know not whom Adrian's friends are;
but if thy friend of the morning was the King, 'tis certain the
setting sun brings thee one less titled."

"'Tis so, but one who may be a King. Thou wilt never tell, Katherine?"

"Nay, never."

"'Twas the King's son, his Grace the Duke of Monmouth."

"Ah, ah, a Prince! Thou art indeed favoured. And how came it about? I
am very curious." Lady Constance related part of her interview with
the Duke, embellished and with many deviations--

"He said they were to be at the monastery as witnesses and intimated
that the King had heard of thy wonderful beauty and grew so impatient
to see thee he must either come himself or send some one he could
trust. Monmouth said thy request was already granted in the King's
mind, and he only waited to see thee to give it utterance. Thou dost
know what a good Catholic he is, and hearing they were to send thee to
ask certain things of his clemency, he has sent the Duke with other
special guard to render speed and safety to thy journey to Whitehall,
where great honour will be shown Adrian's fair bride." Constance so
entered into the very soul of her lies, she half believed them as she
gave them utterance.

The young maid was well-nigh beside herself with pleasure at the
honours that were to attend her, and she gave up all idea of a
backward step. And when Constance proclaimed she was to accompany her,
her heart leapt up with joy. She gave no place to doubt now, 'twas an
unknown quantity, and her voice trembled as she said--"It makes me
perfectly content, if thou art to accompany me. Thou wilt go with
me to the monastery, Constance?" For once her ladyship answered
truthfully, but she did not know it:

"Nay, I am to join thee some time after twelve; I know not just when
or where; but we are to be together. I owe this especial favour to the
Duke. I am so glad thou art espoused, or will be in a short while, or
I should be insanely jealous. Look, Katherine!" and Constance under
cover of her handkerchief showed the ring.

"Isn't it beautiful?" said Katherine.

Mistress Penwick, like many another of her beauty and age, was
inclined to be of ill-spirit when another of her sex seemed to be in
favour; and at Constance' sudden acquaintance with the King's son,
and able to wear his ring, she was piqued, and almost wished it was
herself instead; for in s