a wife from thence, were she the Queen of Beauty herself. And my
mother says that Eustacie would lose all her beauty as she grew up-
-like black-eyed Sue on the down; nor did I ever think her brown
skin and fierce black eyes to compare with you, Lucy. I could be
well content never to see her more; but,' and here he lowered his
voice to a tone of confidence, 'my father, when near his death,
called me, and told me that he feared my marriage would be a cause
of trouble and temptation to me, and that I must deal with it after
my conscience when I was able to judge in the matter. Something,
too, he said of the treaty of marriage being a burthen on his soul,
but I know not what he meant. If ever I saw Eustacie again, I was
to give her his own copy of Clement Marot's Psalter, and to tell
her that he had ever loved and prayed for her as a daughter; and
moreover, my father added,' said Berenger, much moved at the
remembrance it brought across him, 'that if this matter proved a
burthen and perplexity to me, I was to pardon him as one who
repented of it as a thing done ere he had learnt to weigh the whole
world against a soul.'

'Yes, you must see her,' said Lucy.

'Well, what more were you going to say, Lucy?'

'I was only thinking,' said Lucy, as she raised her eyes to him,
'how sorry she will be that she let them write that letter.'

Berenger laughed, pleased with the simplicity of Lucy's admiration,
but with modesty and common sense enough to answer, 'No fear of
that, Lucy, for an heiress, with all the court gallants of France
at her feet.'