--he shall not--he cannot!" cried young Edward,
with flashing eyes. "What! shall the proud crest of my great
father-in-law stoop before the traitorous host of York? Fie on
thee, Paul! talk not to me of defeat. Nay, after we have heard the
holy mass of this glad Easter day, let us rather to horse and
away--you and I together, Paul, as we have done times before--and
let us not draw rein till we ride into the victorious camp of the
king my father, and hear the glad welcome we shall receive from his
brave host.

"O Paul, I have had my moments of doubt and desponding, but they
are all past now. I come to claim my kingdom, and to place a crown
upon the brow of my lovely bride. Ah, I must present you to her--my
gentle Lady Anne. I wot she will not be far off She will be seeking
for me, as is her fashion if we are long apart. She must thank you
herself for all that you have done and suffered for me. You will
feel yourself a thousandfold repaid when you have heard her sweet
words of recognition."

And in effect, as they turned once more toward the Abbey, Paul saw
approaching them the slight and graceful figure of a young girl, in
the first blush of maiden bloom and beauty, her face ethereally
lovely, yet tinged, as it seemed, with some haunting melancholy,
which gave a strange pathos to its rare beauty, and seemed almost
to speak of the doom of sorrow and loss already hanging over her,
little as she knew it then.

The solemn troth plight which had passed between her and young
Edward was almost equivalent to the marriage vow that would shortly
bind them indissolubly together, and their love for each other was
already that of man and wife. As the gentle lady listened to the
eager tale poured out by Paul, she stretched out her hand to him,
and when he would have bent the knee she raised him up with sweet
smiles, and told him how her dear lord had always praised him as a
very brother, and the type of all that was faithful and true in
comrade. Such words from such lips brought the boyish blush to
Paul's cheeks, and he stumbled bashfully over his undying
protestations of loyalty.

Then, as they reached the refectory, which had been allotted by the
monks to their noble guests, he stopped short and fell upon his
knees; for in a tall and stately figure advancing to meet them he
recognized the great queen he had not seen since he was a child,
and scarce dared to raise his eyes to note the ravages that sorrow
and care had made upon