be happy indeed that England has so long escaped such a scourge. It is
indeed sad to think that friends should be arrayed against each other in
a quarrel in which both sides are in the wrong."

"I hope," Harry said, "that if they needs must fight, it will soon be
over, whichever way fortune may turn."

"I think not," Herbert answered. "It is a war of religion as much as a
war for power. The king and the Commons may strive who shall govern the
realm; but the people who will take up arms will do it more for the
triumph of Protestantism than for that of Pym and Hampden."

"How tiresome you both are," Lucy Rippinghall interrupted, pouting. "You
brought me out to gather flowers, and you do nothing but talk of kings
and Parliament, as if I cared for them. I call it very rude. Herbert is
often forgetful, and thinks of his books more than of me; but you,
Master Harry, are always polite and gentle, and I marvel much that you
should be so changed to-day."

"Forgive me," Harry said, smiling. "We have been very remiss, Miss
Lucy; but we will have no more of high politics, and will, even if never
again," he said sadly, "devote all our energies to getting such a basket
of flowers for you as may fill your rooms with beaupots. Now, if your
majesty is ready to begin, we are your most obedient servants."

And so, with a laugh, the little party rose to their feet, and started
in quest of wild flowers.

The condition of affairs was at the outbreak of the civil war such as
might well puzzle older heads than those of Harry Furness or Herbert