s
suit, and yet he ceaseth not to vex me continually with his drivelling
ditties. His ballad-mongering to these 'eyne' alone would set up one of
your court rhymesters for a twelvemonth."

"Yet may aversion cease, and your mislikings be not over difficult to
assuage," said the courtier.

"I doubt not but Sir John Finett speaks of the capricious and changeable
humours he hath witnessed;--our country fashion holdeth not so lightly
by its affection or disfavour."

"Then there be doubtless of those stout vessels that shall never leak
out a lady's favour. That this lot were mine!"

Sir John, perhaps unconsciously, threw his dark eyes full upon the lady,
who blushed deeply; but the gloom concealed this outward show of
feeling, too unformed and indefinite for thought. She spoke not; but the
knight, under cover of his errand, continued the discourse without
awakening her alarm. He excelled in that specious, though apparently
heedless raillery, which is so apt to slip without suspicion into a
lady's ear; and he could ply his suit, under this disguise, with such
seeming artlessness and unconcern, that a lodgement in the citadel was
sometimes effected ere the garrison was aware of the intrusion.

This fair dame, Grace Gerard, was of gentle blood, a daughter of the
Gerards of Ashton Hall, near Lancaster. At the earnest solicitations of
the Hoghton family, she was induced to remain a guest with them during
the royal visit. Of a sweet and excellent temper, her form and face were
its very image and counterpart. The world was to her untried--fresh,
fair, unblemished--she looked upon it as though she were newly alighted
on "some heaven-kissing hill," from whence the whole round of life's
journey was blent and mingled with the glowing beam that now encompassed
her. Alas! that youth should so soon pluck and eat of the "Tree of
Knowledge!" that a nearer approach should dissipate the illusion! that
our path, as it winds through those scenes we have looked on from afar
in the light of our imagination, should at every step discover the
tracks of misery,--a world of wretchedness and of woe!

Sir John, with all his faults, inseparable it may be from the society
into which he had been thrown, was not vicious. Loving and beloved, he
existed but as the object of woman's regard. This foible he indulged not
farther. But many a bright eye waxed dim,--many a fond heart was
withered, in the first spring-tide of its affection.

"Now that I have g