name, what hath chanced?"

A moment more, and she would have flung herself at his feet and told
him all--all, and beseeching his forgiveness, conjure him to shield
her from Arthur, from herself; but as she looked up in his face,
and met its beaming animation, its manly reflection of the pure
gratification that evening had bestowed, how could she, how dared she
be the one to dash it with woe? And, overpowered with this fearful
contention of feeling, she threw her arms around him as he bent
tenderly over her, and burying her head in his bosom, burst into
tears.

"Thou art exhausted, mine own love! It has been too exciting, too
wearying a scene for thee. Why, what a poor, weak girl thou art! How
fortunate for thee that thy Queen demands not thy constant attendance,
and that thy husband is not ambitious to behold thee shining in the
court, as thy grace and beauty might! I am too glad to feel thee all,
all my own. Smile on me, love, and then to thy couch. A few hours'
quiet rest, and thou wilt be thyself again." And he bore her himself
with caressing gentleness to her apartment.




CHAPTER XI.

"Then Roderick from the Douglas broke,
As flashes flame through sable smoke,
Kindling its wreaths long, dark, and low.
To one broad blaze of ruddy glow;