uch intimacy there could be nothing else but
a very near and exalted position at Court. The poor child--innocent
of all evil seeing naught in the gaining of Royal favour but the
achievement of all that was high, holy, beautiful and perfect--now
for a brief moment scorned her own poor estate and fell to envying
Constance, and was of a notion not to go at all to the monastery;--but
if she didn't, then her religion would suffer; for who could go to the
King in her place? She knew she was beautiful, and knew its influence,
and was sure the King would not refuse her. Now if Lord Cedric had not
forbidden her going to the monastery for confession, she could have
known what they wished and gone openly with Lady Constance or Sir
Julian, or perhaps just with Janet to his Majesty and gained his
favour and at once have become a Lady of Honour. But no, 'twas not
thus, and things were as they were, and she could not change them or
retrace.

She would not engage in any game, but played upon the harpsichord and
sung some of her sweetest songs; Lord Cedric ever coming to her side
to turn her music or offer some little service. He was aflame with
hope, for had she not called him "Cedric"?

How dear it sounded; if he might only hear her say it again. He came
to her side and whispered,--

"'Twas sweet of thee to call me Cedric!"--His hand for a moment rested
upon the violets at her shoulder,--"Kate, why didst thou not wear the
opal shoulder-knot instead of these violets?"

"Because--I value it more than aught else, and I would not wear it on
all occasions, for 'twas thy mother's choicest brooch."

"Indeed, I love it, also, Kate, for the same reason; but I would
rather see thee wear it, for I love thee, Kate, thee, thee, thee." His
voice was like a sob stirring her to a pity that made her sick and
weak, and she turned from him hastily and began singing softly,--

"When love with unconfined wings hovers within my gates;
And my divine Althea brings to whisper at the grates;
When I lie tangled in her hair and fetter'd to her eye;
The gods that wanton in the air, know no such liberty.

"'Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take that for an hermitage;
If I have freedom in my love, and in my soul am free;
Angels alone that soar above enjoy such liberty!'"

"Thou dost sing the words of the beautiful and amiable Richard
Lovelace; I have heard my father speak of him with great af