but, after a pause, she added timidly, "Does the king still bear so
stern a memory against so humble a subject?"

"The king is more wroth than before, since tidings of Lord Warwick's
restless machinations in France have soured his temper. He cannot
hear thy name without threats against thy father as a secret adherent
of Lancaster, and accuseth thee of witching his chamberlain,--as, in
truth, thou hast. The Duchess of Bedford is more than ever under the
influence of Friar Bungey, to whose spells and charms, and not to our
good swords, she ascribes the marvellous flight of Warwick and the
dispersion of our foes; and the friar, methinks, has fostered and yet
feeds Edward's suspicions of thy harmless father. The king chides
himself for having suffered poor Warner to depart unscathed, and even
recalls the disastrous adventure of the mechanical, and swears that
from the first thy father was in treasonable conspiracy with Margaret.
Nay, sure I am, that if I dared to wed thee while his anger lasts, he
would condemn thee as a sorceress, and give me up to the secret hate
of my old foes the Woodvilles. But fie! be not so appalled, my
Sibyll; Edward's passions, though fierce, are changeful, and patience
will reward us both."

"Meanwhile, thou lovest me, Hastings!" said Sibyll, with great
emotion. "Oh, if thou knewest how I torment myself in thine absence!
I see thee surrounded by the fairest and the loftiest, and say to
myself, 'Is it possible that he can remember me?' But thou lovest me
still--still--still, and ever! Dost thou not?"

And Hastings said and swore.

"And the Lady Bonville?" asked Sibyll, trying to smile archly, but