ear it is true," she returned. "But if I am ever so fortunate
as to find him again, I intend to go with him whether he consents or no,
regardless of father and all the world. Just as soon as I learn where he
is in Canada, I will go to him. You will take me, won't you, Baron Ned?"

"I'll not give that promise," I answered. "But I am sure there is
something back of King Louis's letter of which we do not know. Surely
George would not have sailed without notifying us."

"He may have feared to betray himself by writing," she suggested, "since
King Charles had asked King Louis to detain him."

"That is true," I returned. "But the occasion must have been urgent
indeed if he could not have sent us word in some manner."

But I could find no comfort for her, for I really believed that George
had gone to Canada, and there was a certain relief to me in knowing that
he had passed out of Frances's life.

After along silence this feeling of relief found unintentional expression
when I said:--

"Time heals all wounds, Frances. One of these days you will find a man
who will make amends for your present loss, and then--"

"No, no, Baron Ned. Your words are spoken in kindness, but what you
suggest is impossible. Perhaps if there had been fewer obstacles between
us, or if I had not misjudged him so cruelly, I might have found my heart
more obedient to my will."

The only comfort I could give my beautiful cousin was that a letter would
soon come explaining everything. In default of a letter, I promised to go
to Paris and learn the truth from George's friends, if possible.

Frances did not go back to Whitehall that day, but remained at home,
pretending to be ill of an ague.

At the end of a week, Frances not having returned to Whitehall, Sir
Richard was honored by a visit from no less a person than the king,
accompanied by the duchess and a gentleman in waiting. The visit was made
incognito.

As a result of this royal visit, which was made for the purpose of seeing
Frances, a part of Sir Richard's estates near St. Albans were restored to
him, and from poverty he rose at once to a comfortable income of, say, a
thousand or twelve hundred pounds a year.

Immediately all of Sir Richard's hatred of Charles II fell away, and once
more the king shone in the resplendent light of his divine appointment.

While Frances estimated the king's generosity at its true value, she was
glad her father had received even a small part of what was hi