pursued or not, she rushed through the
deserted state chambers and never stopped until she found herself in
her own room and had turned the key in the lock.

She flung herself down upon the bed, and her overwrought feelings
found relief in tears. How long she would have so remained would be
impossible to say, but she had barely succeeded in locking herself in
when she was startled by a gentle rap at the door.

She stopped her sobbing and listened. Surely De la Zouch would never
venture to follow her to her own boudoir! No, it was incredible, and
she dismissed the idea.

The silence was broken only by a second rap at the door. It was too
gentle for Sir Henry, it must be her tire-maid, Lettice, or her sister
Margaret, maybe. She rose up, and in a tremulous voice inquired who
was there.

"It is I, Lettice, your maid," replied a gentle voice.

Lettice was of all people just the one whom she stood in need of most
at such a moment, so she unfastened the door and let her in.

"My lady is troubled," exclaimed the maid, as she entered. "Is there
aught that I may do for thee?"

"Oh, Lettice," she sobbed, as the tears chased each other down her
cheeks in quick succession, "see that he does not come. Stop him, keep
him outside. Don't let him come to me."

"Who, my lady, whom shall I stop? No one dare follow thee here."

Dorothy returned no answer, she was trembling all over with
excitement; she fell upon the bed and wept, while the sympathetic
Lettice could only look on in silence, and wonder what it all meant.

"My lady is troubled," she repeated at length. "Someone has been
frightening thee. Tell me who it was! Who is it thou art feared would
try to come at thee here?"

Still there was no answer.

"You ran through the hall," the maid went on, "just like a frightened
hare, and cast never a look at one of us, and now--the saints preserve
us, thou look'st as if thou hadst seen the ghost of Mary Durden."

"Was he following me, Lettice?" asked Dorothy, raising her head from
the pillow. "Was he there?"

"Following thee, no. Who's he? There was no one else went through."

"I thought he was close behind."

"Who?"

"De la Zouch."

"Sir Henry de la Zouch!" repeated the maid. "'Tis he then who has been
treating thee so ill. Were he not a noble, my Will should thrash him
soundly for daring to offend so sweet a lady."

"Take these balls to Master Manners, Lettice," said her mistress,
composing herself as well as she w