in her sister's hands.

"You see I deceive you not, Isabel. And is not this a fair excuse
for--"

She stopped short, her modest nature shrinking from comment upon the
mere beauty that might have won the heart. And fair indeed was the
face upon which Isabel gazed admiringly, in spite of the stiff and
rude art of the limner; full of the fire and energy which
characterized the countenance of the mother, but with a tinge of the
same profound and inexpressible melancholy that gave its charm to the
pensive features of Henry VI.,--a face, indeed, to fascinate a young
eye, even if not associated with such remembrances of romance and
pity.

Without saying a word, Isabel gave back the picture; but she pressed
the hand that took it, and Anne was contented to interpret the silence
into sympathy.

"And now you know why I have so often incurred your anger by
compassion for the adherents of Lancaster; and for this, also, Richard
of Gloucester hath been endeared to me,--for fierce and stern as he
may be called, he hath ever been gentle in his mediation for that
unhappy House."

"Because it is his policy to be well with all parties. My poor Anne,
I cannot bid you hope; and yet, should I ever wed with Clarence, it
may be possible--that--that--but you in turn will chide me for
ambition."