it had
needed little argument to show the two were brothers. But why should two
brothers, well-clad and apparently well-to-do, probably brothers from a
country far to the north, be thus lying like common vagabonds beneath an
English hedge?

Far down the roadway there rose a cloud of dust, which came steadily
nearer, following the only vehicle in sight, probably the only one which
had passed that morning. As this little dust-cloud came slowly nearer it
might have been seen to rise from the wheels of a richly-built and
well-appointed coach. Four dark horses obeyed the reins handled by a
solemn-visaged lackey on the box, and there was a goodly footman at the
back. Within the coach were two passengers such as might have set
Sadler's Wells by the ears. They sat on the same seat, as equals, and
their heads lay close together, as confidantes. The tongues of both ran
fast and free. Long gloves covered the arms of these beauties, and their
costumes showed them to be of station. The crinoline of the two filled
all the body of the ample coach from seat to seat, and the folds of
their figured muslins, flowing out over this ample outline, gave to the
face of each a daintiness of contour and feature which was not ill
relieved by the high head-dress of ribbons and bepowdered hair. Of the
two ladies, one, even in despite of her crinoline, might have been seen
to be of noble and queenly figure; the towering head-dress did not fully
disguise the wealth of red-bronze hair. Tall and well-rounded, vigorous
and young, not yet twenty, adored by many suitors, the Lady Catharine
Knollys had rarely looked better than she did this morning as she drove
out to Sadler's, for Providence alone knew what fault of a superb vital
energy. Her eyes sparkled as she spoke, and every gesture betokened
rather the grand young creature that she was than the valetudinarian
going forth for healing. Her cheek, turned now and again, showed a
clear-cut and untouched soundness that meant naught but health. It
showed also the one blemish upon a beauty which was toasted in the court
as faultless. Upon the left cheek there was a _mouche_, excessive in its
size. Strangers might have commented on it. Really it covered a
deep-stained birth-mark, the one blur upon a peerless beauty. Yet even
this might be forgotten, as it was now.

The companion of the Lady Catharine in her coach was a young woman,
scarce so tall and more slender. The heavy hoop concealed much of the
grace