demanded whether he could not rest in his unhallowed grave. What
would Bishop Ken say? Sometimes even she recollected the strange
theory which had made him crave execution from the late King, seven
years, yes, a little more than seven years ago, and marvel whether
at that critical epoch he had indeed between life and death been
snatched away to his native land of faery. Imagination might well
run riot in the solitary, unoccupied condition to which she was
reduced; and she also brooded much over the fragments of doubtful
news which reached her.

Something was said of all loyal clergy being expelled and
persecuted, and this of course suggested those sufferings of the
clergy during the Commonwealth, of which she had often heard, making
her very anxious about her uncle, and earnestly long for wings to
fly to him. The Archfields too! Had Charles returned, and did that
secret press upon him as it did upon her? Did Lucy think herself
utterly forgotten and cast aside, receiving no word or message from
her friend? "Perhaps," thought Anne, "they fancy me sailing about
at Court in silks and satins, jewels and curls, and forgetting them
all, as I remember Lucy said I should when she first heard that I
was going to Whitehall. Nay, and I even took pleasure in the
picture of myself so decked out, though I never, never meant to
forget her. Foolish, worse than foolish, that I was! And to think
that I might now be safe and happy with good Lady Russell, near my
uncle and all of them. I could almost laugh to think how my fine
notions of making my fortune have ended in sitting here, neglected,
forgotten, banished, almost in rags! I suppose it was all self-
seeking, and that I must take it meekly as no more than I deserve.
But oh, how different! how different is this captivity! 'Oh that I
had wings like a dove, for then would I flee away, and be at rest.'
Swallow, swallow! you are sweeping through the air. Would that my
spirit could fly like you! if only for one glimpse to tell me what
they are doing. Ah! there's some one coming down this unfrequented
walk, where I thought myself safe. A young gentleman! I must rise
and go as quietly as I can before he sees me. Nay," as the action
following the impulse, she was gathering up her work, "'tis an old
abbe with him! no fear! Abbe? Nay, 'tis liker to an English
clergyman! Can a banished one have strayed hither? The younger man
is in mourning. Could it be? No graver, older,