ence
confessed her misdeeds and prayed forgiveness for her sins.

The confession, though well meant, was constrained and short. The
maiden was absent-minded, and though she would have entered into it
with heart and soul, she found herself unable to bend her will, and
even while confessing, her thoughts were fixed on her lover, whom
she knew was impatiently waiting to embrace her as soon as she had
finished her devotions.

"And now, my own peerless Doll," said Manners, as she rose and came to
him, "at last I may talk with thee once more."

"Yes, John," replied the maiden, "at last! We have waited long for
this."

"Nicholas, you will listen and warn us if anyone approaches," said
Manners.

"I pray thee forget not that the time goes on apace," replied the
confessor. "I will guard the door for thee."

The lovers were alone; they were free to enjoy each other's
company for a little while, and in a short time the sound of eager
conversation filled the room.

"Come, now, 'tis time," broke in the priest, after a long pause. "Sir
George will be wondering at the long delay."

"A minute more, Nicholas, a minute more," was the excited reply.

"Now, Doll," Manners appealed, "I have told you all. What say you?"

"Not yet, John, not yet," she demurely replied.

"O, say not so, Doll," he pleaded, "they will never relent."

"I cannot do it, John; indeed, I cannot. I would refuse thee naught
save this, but this I must refuse."

Her lover looked at her sadly. "Then we may not see each other again,"
he said, "till thou art Lady Stanley."

"Nay, nay," she replied quickly, "I shall never be that. My heart
would break first. I shall never be that."

"Or I may be discovered, and--and then, Doll, what?"

"O don't, don't say that," she cried. "You tear my heart. I cannot do
it, John; at least--at least not now."

"Mistress Dorothy, we must go now. I cannot, I dare not tarry any
longer," said the priest as he came up and stood beside the lovers.
"We must go at once."

"A minute more, just a minute, Nicholas."

"Nay," he replied, "we must not linger any more."

"Go, then, I will follow thee," said Dorothy, and taking her at
her word the father bowed himself low before the little altar and
departed.

"Not yet," said Manners, "you cannot yet! Doll, it must come to this,
and why not do it now?"

"Nay, nay, John, ask me not. I cannot, I cannot do it. Adieu, we shall
meet again soon, trust me till then"; and giving him a f