porch, he rode away with all that gallant
company, with high hopes and courage to follow where their great chief led
them.

Some of the guests departed in the afternoon of the day to sleep at
Tunbridge, but Sir Fulke Greville remained at the request of Lady Pembroke.

There was no one to whom she could so freely speak of her brother, sure of
his sympathy, as to Sir Fulke Greville.

Perhaps no one, except herself, had such an intimate knowledge of the depth
of his learning and the wonderful versatility of his gifts.

The beech wood was Lady Pembroke's favourite resort at all seasons when at
Penshurst. It was there she had many a time played with Sir Philip as a
child, and taken sweet converse with him in later years. Here many of his
poems had been rehearsed to his sister before ever they had been written on
paper.

It was in the profound stillness of the November noontide that Lady
Pembroke invited Sir Fulke Greville to cross the park and wander with her
in the familiar paths through the beech wood.

The leaves were falling silently from the branches overhead, adding one by
one their tribute to the thick bronze carpet which had been lying at the
feet of the stately trees for many a long year.

The gentle rustle of a bird as it flew from the thinning branches, the soft
sigh of a faint breeze as it whispered its message of decay to the trees,
the gentle trill of a robin at intervals, were the only sounds that fell
upon the ear as Lady Pembroke and Sir Fulke Greville spoke of him who was
uppermost in their thoughts.

'It is a splendid career for him, doubtless,' Sir Fulke was saying, 'and
marvellous that one so young should be thus distinguished as to be set over
the heads of so many who would fain have been chosen. But no man living
excites less jealousy than Sir Philip; jealousy and scorn and mistrust die
in his presence.'

'Yes,' Lady Pembroke said, 'that is true. Yet I would that I felt more
secure as to my Uncle Leicester's attitude towards my brother. I scarce can
feel his praise is whole-hearted. Maybe it is too much to expect that it
should be as fervent as that of others.'

'The Earl is appointed Commander-in-Chief of the whole force. Sure that is
honour enough, and the sooner he hastens thither the better. He is gone to
dally at Court and trifle with the Queen as of old. When I see these
middle-aged folk, Queen and courtier, posing as lovers and indulging in
youthful follies, I ask myself, will it be s