the bell cord.

"James," said she, standing very erect and full of dignity, "go to the
library and see if Sir Charles be within."

When the butler's solemn cough again gave warning, it was to bring
information which may or may not have been news to Lady Catharine. "Your
Ladyship," said he, "Sir Charles is said to have taken carriage an hour
ago, and left no word."

"Send me Cecile, James," said Lady Catharine, and again the butler
vanished.

"Cecile," said she, as the maid at length appeared, "you may serve us
with tea."

CHAPTER VIII

CATHARINE KNOLLYS

"You mistake, sir! I am no light o' love, John Law!"

Thus spoke Catharine Knollys. She stood near the door of the great
drawing-room of the Knollys mansion, her figure beseeming well its
framing of deep hangings and rich tapestries. Her eyes were wide and
flashing, her cheeks deeply pink, the sweet bow of her lips half
a-quiver in her vehemence. Her surpassing personal beauty, rich, ripe,
enticing, gave more than sufficient challenge for the fiery blood of the
young man before her.

It was less than two weeks since these two had met. Surely the flood of
time had run swiftly in those few days. Not a day had passed that Law
had not met Catharine Knollys, nor had yet one meeting been such as the
girl in her own conscience dared call better than clandestine, even
though they met, as now, under her own roof. Yet, reason as she liked,
struggle as she could, Catharine Knollys had not yet been quite able to
end this swift voyaging on the flood of fate. It was so strange, so new,
so sweet withal, this coming of her suitor, as from the darkness of some
unknown star, so bold, so strong, so confident, and yet so humble! All
the old song of the ages thrilled within her soul, and each day its
compelling melody had accession. That this delirious softening of all
her senses meant danger, the Lady Catharine could not deny. Yet could
aught of earth be wrong when it spelled such happiness, such
sweetness--when the sound of a footfall sent her blood going the faster,
when the sight of a tall form, the ring of a vibrant tone, caused her
limbs to weaken, her throat to choke?

But ah! whence and why this spell, this sorcery--why this sweetness
filling all her being, when, after all, duty and seemliness bade it all
to end, as end it must, to-day? Thus had the Lady Catharine reflected
but the hour before John Law came; her knight of dreams--tall,
yellow-haired, blue-eyed,