ding towards Frances, "but
the woman wore a full vizard and was wrapped in furs to her ears, so that
we did not see her face."

"Do you suppose we could have made a mistake?" asked Wentworth.

"You surely did," answered the king. "She has established an alibi. At
what hour did you leave Baynard's Castle?"

"Near one o'clock," returned Berkeley.

"One o'clock! She was playing cards with the duchess till four,"
exclaimed the king, impatiently. "You picked up the wrong woman. But
I'm glad you did. I suppose the lampooners will get hold of the story
and will set every one laughing at me. Kidnapped the wrong woman and
lost her! Odds fish! But you're a pair of wise ones. I see I shall have
to find me a new Lord High Kidnapper."

The king was right concerning the lampooners, for soon they had the
story, and he became the laughing-stock of London, though Frances's name
was not mentioned.

It is a significant index to the morals of our time that the king's
attempt to kidnap a woman in the streets of London should have aroused
laughter rather than indignation.

As it was, the kidnapping episode brought no harm to my cousin, but she
did not want it to happen again, and so was careful to take a trusted
escort with her when she went abroad thereafter.

CHAPTER X

AT THE MAID'S GARTER

Betty was confined to her room during the greater part of the next month,
and Frances visited her frequently. Notwithstanding my vows not to see
Betty, I was compelled to go with Frances as her body-guard. I even went
so far in my feeble effort to keep my resolution as to suggest Churchill
as a body-guard, but Frances objected, and the quality of my good intent
was not enduring. So I went with my cousin, and the joy in Betty's eyes
whenever we entered her room was not the sort that would come because she
was glad to see Frances.

* * * * *

During the first week of Bettina's illness she was too sick to talk,
therefore we did not remain long with her. But as she grew better our
visits lengthened, and my poor resolutions grew weaker day by day because
my love for the girl was growing stronger and stronger hour by hour.

On one occasion while Frances's back was turned, Betty impulsively
snatched up my hand and kissed it, dropping it instantly, blushing
intensely and covering her tracks by humming the refrain of a French
lullaby. I longed to return the caress, but did not, and took great
credit to mys