ry thought of
Eleanora for his wife. There is some reason to believe that Henry was
really married to Rosamond, though, if so, the marriage was a private
one, and the existence of it was kept a profound secret from all the
world. The real and public marriages of kings and princes are almost
always determined by reasons of state; and when Henry at last went to
Paris, and saw Eleanora there, and found, moreover, that she was
willing to marry him, and to bring him as her dowry all her
possessions in France, which would so greatly extend his dominions, he
determined to accede to her desires, and to keep his connection with
Rosamond, whatever the nature of it might have been, a profound
secret forever.

So he married Eleanora and brought her to England, and lived with her,
as has already been described, in the various palaces which belonged
to him, sometimes in one and sometimes in another.

Among these palaces, one of the most beautiful was that of Woodstock.
The engraving on the opposite page represents the buildings of the
palace as they appeared some hundreds of years later than the time
when Rosamond lived.

[Illustration: VIEW OF WOODSTOCK.]

In the days of Henry and Rosamond the palace of Woodstock was
surrounded with very extensive and beautiful gardens and grounds.
Somewhere upon these grounds the story was that Henry kept Rosamond in
a concealed cottage. The entrance to the cottage was hidden in the
depths of an almost impenetrable thicket, and could only be approached
through a tortuous and intricate path, which led this way and that by
an infinite number of turns, forming a sort of maze, made purposely to
bewilder those attempting to pass in and out. Such a place was often
made in those days in palace-grounds as a sort of ornament, or,
rather, as an amusing contrivance to interest the guests coming to
visit the proprietor. It was called a labyrinth. A great many plans of
labyrinths are found delineated in ancient books. The paths were not
only so arranged as to twist and turn in every imaginable direction,
but at every turn there were several branches made so precisely alike
that there was nothing to distinguish one from the other. Of course,
one of these roads was the right one, and led to the centre of the
labyrinth, where there was a house, or a pretty seat with a view, or a
garden, or a shady bower, or some other object of attraction, to
reward those who should succeed in getting in. The other paths led