e old dame from one of the deep
window recesses. "Hither, good knight, for I would talk with thee
awhile."

He could not very well resist such a direct appeal, but he took his
seat beside her unwillingly enough.

"I hear, Sir Edward," confidentially began the dame, "that in a month
you are to wed Mistress Dorothy Vernon; is that so?"

"It is," he replied, curtly.

"You are a lucky knight, then," she replied, "for, except my Isabel,
Dorothy is the fairest maiden I have ever clapt eyes on. But then,
Isabel, forsooth, is not so rich. We cannot all be Vernons, you know,
though if everybody had their deserts we--"

"Yes, I trow that she is rich and fair; but for neither of these do I
care so much as her love," gallantly responded Stanley.

"Tut, now, Sir Edward," pursued his tormentor, "both you and I know
full well that people marry for riches and rank, not for beauty. You
marry for riches, I suppose, and she for rank. Now, sir knight, am I
not right?" she asked triumphantly.

"Nay, my lady, you are far from it. You will excuse me now, I am
sure; I am promised a dance with Dorothy shortly," and he got up and
departed, glad to get away so quickly, and deaf to her entreaty to
return.

His temper was ruffled, and he walked away to look for his partner, to
lose his irritation in the sunshine of her company.

But Dorothy was nowhere to be seen.

He paced up and down the length of the room, chafing at her absence,
and peering into every corner and recess as he wandered along. The
dining-room and banqueting-hall were searched equally in vain, and
at last the baffled lover concluded that she had retired for a little
rest.

He waited, irritated not a little at the long delay. His eye scanned
each passing figure again and again, and rigorously searched each
group, but it was all "love's labour lost;" Dorothy could not be
found; and finally, unable any longer to control the forebodings of
his suspicious heart, he hastened to the baron and acquainted him with
all his fears.

"Tush, man," replied Sir George gaily; "maybe she is feeling somewhat
out of sorts, or happen she is tired. Margaret!" he called, as the
newly-married maiden was passing along, "do thou seek for Dorothy, my
Lady Stanley. Thy new brother, Sir Edward, is jealous of her absence."

"Ah, prithee do, good Margaret," added that unhappy knight. "Her
absence just at this time bodes no good, I fear, and makes me feel
uneasy."

"She shall be here soon," re