e fell on De la Foret. Her look softened. "I will hear you
preach next Sunday, sir."

There was an instant's pause, and then she said to Angele, with gracious
look and in a low voice: "You have heard from me that calumny which the
innocent never escape. To try you I neglected you these many days; to
see your nature even more truly than I knew it, I accused you but now.
You might have been challenged first by one who could do you more harm
than Elizabeth of England, whose office is to do good, not evil. Nets
are spread for those whose hearts are simple, and your feet have been
caught. Be thankful that we understand; and know that Elizabeth is your
loving friend. You have had trials--I have kept you in suspense--there
has been trouble for us all; but we are better now; our minds are more
content; so all may be well, please God! You will rest this night with
our lady-dove here, and to-morrow early you shall return in peace to
your father. You have a good friend in our cousin." She made a gentle
motion towards the Duke's Daughter. "She has proved it so. In my leech
she has a slave. To her you owe this help in time of need. She hath
wisdom, too, and we must listen to her, even as I have done this day."

She inclined her head towards the door. Leicester opened it, and as she
passed out she gave him one look which told him that his game was lost,
if not for ever, yet for time uncertain and remote. "You must not blame
the leech, my lord," she said, suddenly turning back. "The Queen of
England has first claim on the duty of her subjects. They serve me for
love; you they help at need as time-servers."

She stepped on, then paused again and looked back. "Also I forbid
fighting betwixt you," she said, in a loud voice, looking at De la Foret
and Leicester.

Without further sign or look, she moved on. Close behind came Angele and
the Duke's Daughter, and Leicester followed at some distance.

CHAPTER XVIII

Not far from the palace, in a secluded place hidden by laburnum, roses,
box and rhododendrons, there was a quaint and beautiful retreat. High
up on all sides of a circle of green the flowering trees and shrubs
interlaced their branches, and the grass, as smooth as velvet, was of
such a note as soothed the eye and quieted the senses. In one segment
of the verdant circle was a sort of open bower made of poles, up which
roses climbed and hung across in gay festoons; and in two other segments
mossy banks made resting-places