th Leicester,
and Sir George could not help noticing that nobleman's pronounced
admiration for his daughter. These exhibitions of gallantry were never
made in the presence of the queen. The morning of the day when the
Stanleys were expected Sir George called me to his room for a private
consultation. The old gentleman was in a state of excitement, not unmixed
with perplexity and trouble.

He said, "I have great and good news to impart to you, Malcolm; yet I am
in a dilemma growing out of it."

"Tell me the good news first, Sir George," I replied. "The dilemma may
wait."

"Is Doll a very beautiful girl?" he asked eagerly.

"I believe she is the most beautiful woman in the world," I answered.

"Good, good," he replied, rubbing his hands. "Is she so fascinating,
brilliant, and attractive, think you--of course I speak in jest--but think
you she might vie with the court ladies for beauty, and think you she
might attract--for the sake of illustration I will say--might she attract
a man like Leicester?"

"Unless I am much mistaken," I answered, "Leicester is over his ears in
love with the girl now."

"Ah, do you believe so, Malcolm?" replied Sir George, laughing and
slapping his thigh, as he walked to and fro across the room. "You have
seen so much of that sort of thing that you should know it when it comes
under your nose. Eh, Malcolm, eh?"

"I should suppose that any one, however inexperienced in such matters,
could easily see Leicester's infatuation for Dorothy. If you wish me to
tell you what I really believe--"

"I do, I do," interrupted Sir George.

"I should say," I continued, "that Dorothy has deliberately gone in for
conquest. Leave the girl to herself, Sir George. She can conduct the
campaign without help from any one. She understands the art of such
warfare as well as if she were a veteran."

"Gad, but she does, but she does. I believe she could give Venus herself
some good points in the matter. But let me tell you, Malcolm,"--the old
man dropped his voice to a whisper,--"I questioned Doll this morning, and
she confessed that Leicester had spoken words of love to her. Would it not
be a great match for our house?"

He said "our house," mind you, not "our Doll." I might call his condition
of mind patrimonial selfishness. Simple old man! He did not know that
words of love are not necessarily words of marriage.

"Has Leicester spoken to you?" I asked in alarm for John's sake.

"No, no, he has not spoke