was
the part of wisdom and prudence that you should remain away; but had
you cared as much as I, your prudence would not have held you."

She hung her head a moment in silence; then, looking at him, almost
ready for tears, continued: "A man has no right to speak in that way
of a woman whose little favors he has taken, and make her regret that
she has given a gift only that it may recoil upon her. 'Little,' did I
say? Sir, do you know what that--first--kiss was to me? Had I
possessed all the crowns of all the earth I would have given them to
you as willingly. Now you know the value I placed on it, however
worthless it was to you. Yet I was a cheerful giver of that great
gift, was I not? And can you find it in your heart to make of it a
shame to me--that of which I was so proud?"

She stood there with head inclined a little to one side, looking at
him inquiringly as if awaiting an answer. He did not speak, but looked
steadily at his book. I felt, however, that he was changing, and I was
sure her beauty, never more exquisite than in its present humility,
would yet atone for even so great a fault as hers. Err, look
beautiful, and receive remission! Such a woman as Mary carries her
indulgence in her face.

I now began to realize for the first time the wondrous power of this
girl, and ceased to marvel that she had always been able to turn even
the king, the most violent, stubborn man on earth, to her own wishes.
Her manner made her words eloquent, and already, with true feminine
tactics, she had put Brandon in the wrong in everything because he was
wrong in part.

Then she quickly went over what she had said to me. She told of her
great dread lest the king should learn of the visit to Grouche's and
its fatal consequences, knowing full well it would render Henry
impervious to her influence and precipitate the French marriage. She
told him of how she was going to the king the day after the arrest to
ask his release, and of the meeting with Buckingham, and his promise.

Still Brandon said nothing, and stood as if politely waiting for her
to withdraw.

She remained silent a little time, waiting for him to speak, when
tears, partly of vexation, I think, moistened her eyes.

"Tell me at least," she said, "that you know I speak the truth. I have
always believed in you, and now I ask for your faith. I would not lie
to you in the faintest shading of a thought--not for heaven
itself--not even for your love and forgiveness, muc