proudly watching
their offspring as they flitted to and fro, and noted with much
satisfaction the matchless beauty of their own daughters, and the
mediocrity of the rest; or, were they so inclined, footed it, as of
old, with equally middle-aged gallants. Sir Benedict a Woode soon
retired from the scene, and taking advantage of his intimate knowledge
of the building, he led a few convivial spirits, like himself, into
the wine-cellar, which they did their utmost to empty, until, having
imbibed too much, they were fain to lie down, through sheer inability
to stand.

It was from the rising generation, however, that the greatest
merriment arose. These, paired off in ever changing couples, whirled
from one end of the room to the other, and then, without a pause,
returned again, heedless alike of the gratulations of their elder
friends as they passed them by, and of the indifferent gaze of those
who were not their friends who looked at them with jealous eyes.

Dorothy, with a heavy load at her heart, wore a bright and even
smiling face. She received the flattering service of her admirers as
of old, and danced impartially with all who asked for the privilege.

Even Sir Edward Stanley, although she cordially disliked him, came
in for a goodly share of her favours. He had noted a change in her
conduct of late, and that change was for the better. He imagined that
she was readier to accept his advances, and when he had communicated
his thoughts to his brother, they were confirmed in almost every
respect. Sir Thomas had remarked exactly the same change, and they
readily ascribed it to a yielding of the maiden's spirit.

Little did they suspect that this alteration in her bearing was due
to any other cause than that Manners was being forgotten, and in
his happiness at the change, Sir Edward was content to let her enjoy
herself as she listed, feeling sure that ere the end of another month
there would be another bridal party, in which Dorothy Vernon and
himself would be the principal actors.

When the merriment was at its highest, and the boisterousness was at
its climax, Dorothy remembered that the time was fast approaching when
she would have to depart. Her lover--he who had risked so much for her
sake--would be waiting in the cold meadow with the horses waiting for
her! and she sank down to rest, well knowing the terrible strain she
would soon be called upon to endure.

"Fair Mistress Dorothy is tired, I perceive," quoth a yo