plished, and the ambassadors of France in his train; and even
before the courier despatched to the king had arrived at Shene, a
private hand had conveyed to Montagu the information that Warwick,
justly roused and alarmed, had left the state procession behind at
Dover, and was hurrying, fast as relays of steeds and his own fiery
spirit could bear him, to the presence of the ungrateful king.

Meanwhile the noon had now declined, the sport relaxed, and the sound
of the trumpet from the king's pavilion proclaimed that the lazy pastime
was to give place to the luxurious banquet.

At this moment, Montagu approached a tent remote from the royal
pavilions, and, as his noiseless footstep crushed the grass, he heard
the sound of voices in which there was little in unison with the worldly
thoughts that filled his breast.

"Nay, sweet mistress, nay," said a young man's voice, earnest with
emotion, "do not misthink me, do not deem me bold and overweening. I
have sought to smother my love, and to rate it, and bring pride to my
aid, but in vain; and, now, whether you will scorn my suit or not,
I remember, Sibyll--O Sibyll! I remember the days when we conversed
together; and as a brother, if nothing else--nothing dearer--I pray you
to pause well, and consider what manner of man this Lord Hastings is
said to be!"

"Master Nevile, is this generous? Why afflict me thus; why couple my
name with so great a lord's?"

"Because--beware--the young gallants already so couple it, and their
prophecies are not to thine honour, Sibyll. Nay, do not frown on me. I
know thou art fair and winsome, and deftly gifted, and thy father may,
for aught I know, be able to coin thee a queen's dower out of his awsome
engines. But Hastings will not wed thee, and his wooing, therefore, but
stains thy fair repute; while I--"

"You!" said Montagu, entering suddenly--"you, kinsman, may look to
higher fortunes than the Duchess of Bedford's waiting-damsel can bring
to thy honest love. How now, mistress, say, wilt thou take this young
gentleman for loving fere and plighted spouse? If so, he shall give thee
a manor for jointure, and thou shalt wear velvet robe and gold chain, as
a knight's wife."

This unexpected interference, which was perfectly in character with the
great lords, who frequently wooed in very peremptory tones for their
clients and kinsmen, [See, in Miss Strickland's "Life of Elizabeth
Woodville," the curious letters which the Duke of York and the