princess, standing next to the throne of the greatest kingdom on
earth; in fact, at that time, the heir apparent--Henry having no
children--for the people would not have the Scotch king's imp--and the
possibility of such a thing as a union with Brandon had never entered
her head, however passionate her feelings toward him. She also knew
that speaking a thought vitalizes it and gives it force; so, although
she could not deny herself the pleasure of being near him, of seeing
him, and hearing the tones of his voice, and now and then feeling the
thrill of an accidental touch, she had enough good sense to know that
a mutual confession, that is, taking it for granted Brandon loved her,
as she felt almost sure he did, must be avoided at all hazards. It was
not to be thought of between people so far apart as they. The brink
was a delightful place, full of all the sweet ecstasies and thrilling
joys of a seventh heaven, but over the brink--well! there should be no
"over," for who was she? And who was he? Those two dreadfully stubborn
facts could not be forgotten, and the gulf between them could not be
spanned; she knew that only too well. No one better.

Brandon answered her question: "I do not know about going; I think I
shall. I have volunteered with a ship that sails in two or three weeks
from Bristol, and I suppose I shall go."

"Oh, no! do you really mean it?" It gave her a pang to hear that he
was actually going, and her love pulsed higher; but she also felt a
sense of relief, somewhat as a conscientious house-breaker might feel
upon finding the door securely locked against him. It would take away
a temptation which she could not resist, and yet dared not yield to
much longer.

"I think there is no doubt that I mean it," replied Brandon. "I should