her
that he was a servant of Cromwell's whom many believed to be an enemy
of Church and State. She had nodded back to him steadily and silently,
knowing what would follow from the paleness of his face, and his bright
eyes beneath their wide lids. She had felt her own breast rise and fall
and a pulse begin to hammer at the spring of her throat. Even now as she
thought of it her heart quickened, and her hands clenched themselves.

And then in one swift moment it had come. She had found her hands caught
fiercely, and her eyes imprisoned by his; and then all was over, and she
had given him an answer in a word.

It had not been easy even after that. Cecily had questioned her more
than once. Mrs. More had said a few indiscreet things that had been hard
to bear; her own aunt had received the news in silence.

But that was over now. The necessary consent on both sides had been
given; and here she was once more walking up the road to Westminster
with Ralph's image before her eyes, and Ralph himself a hundred yards
away.

* * * * *

She turned the last corner from the alley, passed up the little street,
and turned again across the little cobbled yard that lay before the
house.

Mr. Morris was at the door as she came up, and he now stood aside. He
seemed doubtful.

"Mr. Torridon has gentlemen with him, madam."

"Then I will wait," said Beatrice serenely, and made a motion to come
in. The servant still half-hesitating opened the door wider; and
Beatrice and her maid went through into the little parlour on the right.

As she passed in she heard voices from the other door. Mr. Morris's
footsteps went down the passage.

She had not very long to wait. There was the sound of a carriage
driving up to the door presently, and her maid who sat in view of the
window glanced out. Her face grew solemn.

"It is Master Cromwell's carriage," she said.

Beatrice was conscious of a vague discomfort; Master Cromwell, in spite
of her efforts, was the shadowed side of Ralph's life.

"Is he coming in?" she said.

The maid peeped again.

"No, madam."

The door of the room they were in was not quite shut, and there was
still a faint murmur of voices from across the hall; but almost
immediately there was the sound of a lifted latch, and then Ralph's
voice clear and distinct.

"I will see to it, my lord."

Beatrice stood up, feeling a little uneasy. She fancied that perhaps she
ought not to be here; s