ous countess,
and break a lance for the fame of the demoiselle whose fair face is
married to a noble heart."

That evening, in the galliard, many an admiring eye turned to Sibyll,
and many a young gallant, recalling the earl's words, sighed to win
her grace. There had been a time when such honour and such homage would
have, indeed, been welcome; but now ONE saw them not, and they were
valueless. All that, in her earlier girlhood, Sibyll's ambition had
coveted, when musing on the brilliant world, seemed now well-nigh
fulfilled,--her father protected by the first noble of the land, and
that not with the degrading condescension of the Duchess of Bedford,
but as Power alone should protect Genius, honoured while it honours; her
gentle birth recognized; her position elevated; fair fortunes smiling
after such rude trials; and all won without servility or abasement.
But her ambition having once exhausted itself in a diviner passion, all
excitement seemed poor and spiritless compared to the lonely waiting
at the humble farm for the voice and step of Hastings. Nay, but for her
father's sake, she could almost have loathed the pleasure and the pomp,
and the admiration and the homage, which seemed to insult the reverses
of the wandering exile.

The earl had designed to place Sibyll among Isabel's ladies, but the
haughty air of the duchess chilled the poor girl; and pleading the
excuse that her father's health required her constant attendance, she
prayed permission to rest with Warner wherever he might be lodged. Adam
himself, now that the Duchess of Bedford and Friar Bungey were no longer
in the Tower, entreated permission to return to the place where he had
worked the most successfully upon the beloved Eureka; and, as the Tower
seemed a safer residence than any private home could be, from popular
prejudice and assault, Warwick kindly offered apartments, far more
commodious than they had yet occupied, to be appropriated to the father
and daughter. Several attendants were assigned to them, and never was
man of letters or science more honoured now than the poor scholar who,
till then, had been so persecuted and despised.

Who shall tell Adam's serene delight? Alchemy and astrology at rest,
no imperious duchess, no hateful Bungey, his free mind left to its
congenial labours! And Sibyll, when they met, strove to wear a cheerful
brow, praying him only never to speak to her of Hastings. The good
old man, relapsing into his wonted mecha