d many were the plans which Manners devised to meet his
beloved Dorothy again, but the success he so richly merited was tardy
in coming, and one after another his schemes were frustrated, until
success seemed to have receded from his grasp for ever.

Dorothy, in fact, was too carefully watched to permit of her meeting
her lover easily, and she was kept too busy at the tapestry frame
to allow her much time for writing to him had she been so disposed.
Whenever she went out she was well attended, and for a long time
Manners was fain to content himself with an occasional glimpse of
her pale face as she rode by, or by sending love-notes and receiving
messages back by the kindly aid of the faithful Lettice.

Still he persevered, and was rarely absent from the trysting place at
the appointed time, for Dorothy might come on any night, and when she
came he was determined she should find him there. But she never came.
Lettice occasionally he met, but even she was suspected and was kept
indoors as much as possible, and more often than not he sat his weary
vigils out alone.

Good Roger Morton did his utmost to further his friend's design,
sending him up as often as possible on missions to the Hall, and he
went so frequently both with messages and faggots, that, seeing him
so often, no one suspected that the young woodsman was any other than
what he professed to be.

Time flew on: weeks passed by. Autumn brought its coldest and chillest
weather for the winter to take up and carry forward. The steers were
fattening in the stalls, or salting in the troughs, for the Christmas
festivities. The capacious larders of Haddon were replenished to the
full, ready to withstand the attack of the cooks; large piles of wood
lay stacked up in the yard, ready to supply the many fires which were
to cook the victuals for the feast; and the servants themselves grew
daily more surprised at the constant arrival of fresh stores, and
wondered if ever so magnificent a feast had taken place before.

With Dorothy the time passed slowly and painfully along. Her position
had not improved one whit, and she was wearied of the life of
restraint and imprisonment to which she was subjected. Her fingers
were sore and ached again with the continual tenter-stitching she had
to perform, and her whole nature revolted at the system of espionage
which Lady Vernon and Sir Edward Stanley had set upon her. The daily
visits of that unfeeling and determined nobleman with w