n the door. The servant stood
upon the threshold gazing at the vision of beauty that had raised upon
her elbow in the bed, and was looking with inquiring eyes.

"His Lordship begs Mistress Penwick to step to the library after her
breakfast."

"Step, to be sure, thou hadst better bring a chariot to cart her
there, and 'twould be out of the question for her to go before getting
anything into her stomach to strengthen her for the journey."

"Shall I tell him so, mum?" said the servant, with a look of roguery
in his eyes.

"'Twould become thee better to tell him without asking if thou
shouldst. Avaunt, get thee gone on thy mission." Then turning to
Katherine,--"'Twould have to come sooner or later and 'tis best sooner
I'm thinking," and Janet stepped to draw the curtains to let in but a
sickly grey light. "Ah, there is a great snowstorm! and there seems to
be a large party about to set forth a hunting." And indeed there arose
to their ears a great noise of baying hounds and the tramping of
horses in the courtyard, and voices were raised high and merry. There
was a rattle of spurs and champing of bits; and as the two women
looked from the window the party set forth.

"Thou wilt go with me, Janet?"

"As far as the library door. I will listen and peep through the
keyhole when no one is passing."

A lackey came to conduct Mistress Katherine below. He looked surprised
at Janet as she followed them, neither was his curiosity appeased when
Mistress Penwick passed through the library door, and the severe-faced
Janet sat down upon a ponderous chair in the corridor just outside.

'Twas a great room with enormous fireplaces, and in front of one of
them stood Lord Cedric. There was a smile on his face as he noted
his ward's surprise. She looked upon him with interest and finally
spoke,--

"Lord Cedric sent for me; he is not here," and she retreated as if to
leave the room.

"Nay, do not leave until thou hast become acquainted with Cedric of
Crandlemar." He held out his hand to her longingly, pleadingly, and
stood thus before her; his figure of an Adonis silhouetted by the
flames that reached above his head in the great chimney behind him.
His face and form was a match for her own. A hunting-coat wrapped his
broad shoulders; his beauteous limbs were encased in high-field boots,
showing well his fine masculine mould.

"How many lords of Crandlemar are there?" she asked, almost
contemptuously.

"One, only," and he still h