nds, nor can the King's
appointment be neglected, though of course I am extremely grieved to
go."

"And you are dazzled with all these gewgaws of Court life, no
doubt?"

"I shall not be much in the way of gewgaws just yet," said Anne
drily. "It will be dull enough in some back room of Whitehall or
St. James's."

"Say you so. You will wish yourself back--you, the lady of my
heart--mine own good angel! Hear me. Say but the word, and your
home will be mine, to say nothing of your own most devoted servant."

"Hush, hush, sir! I cannot hear this," said Anne, anxiously
glancing down the street in hopes of seeing her uncle approaching.

"Nay, but listen! This is my only hope--my only chance--I must
speak--you doom me to you know not what if you will not hear me!"

"Indeed, sir, I neither will nor ought!"

"Ought! Ought! Ought you not to save a fellow-creature from
distraction and destruction? One who has loved and looked to you
ever since you and that saint your mother lifted me out of the
misery of my childhood."

Then as she looked softened he went on: "You, you are my one hope.
No one else can lift me out of the reach of the demon that has beset
me even since I was born."

"That is profane," she said, the more severe for the growing
attraction of repulsion.

"What do I care? It is true! What was I till you and your mother
took pity on the wild imp? My old nurse said a change would come to
me every seven years. That blessed change came just seven years
ago. Give me what will make a more blessed--a more saving change--
or there will be one as much for the worse."

"But--I could not. No! you must see for yourself that I could not--
even if I would," she faltered, really pitying now, and unwilling to
give more pain than she could help.

"Could not? It should be possible. I know how to bring it about.
Give me but your promise, and I will make you mine--ay, and I will
make myself as worthy of you as man can be of saint-like maid."

"No--no! This is very wrong--you are pledged already--"

"No such thing--believe no such tale. My promise has never been
given to that grim hag of my father's choice--no, nor should be
forced from me by the rack. Look you here. Let me take this hand,
call in the woman of the house, give me your word, and my father
will own his power to bind me to Martha is at an end."

"Oh, no! It would be a sin--never. Besides--" said Anne, holding
her hands tightly clasped