be then? But now you have heard enough of my wisdom: for I love no man,
being very wise; or you have heard enough of my folly that my mirth bids
me speak, as you shall deem it. And now, we must consider how this great
feud may be closed, and the foes set at one again."

"Shall I find out her lodgings, and be carried thither straightway in a
litter? Her heart may be softened when she sees that I cannot walk or
mount a horse?"

"Now, let me think what I should deem, if I had ridden by, unlooked for,
and spied my lover with a maid, not unfriendly, or perchance uncomely,
sitting smiling in a gallant balcony. Would I be appeased when he came
straight to seek me, borne in a litter? Would I--?" And she mused, her
finger at her mouth, and her brow puckered, but with a smile on her lips
and in her eyes.

Then I, seeing her so fair, yet by me so undesired; and beholding her so
merry, while my heart was amazed with the worst sorrow, and considering,
too, that but for her all this would never have been, but I sitting happy
by my lady's side,--thinking on all this, I say, I turned from her
angrily, as if I would leave the balcony.

"Nay, wait," she cried, "for I must see all the show out, and here come
the Scots Guard, thy friends, and I need time to take counsel with my
wisdom on this weighty matter. See, they know you"; and, indeed, many a
man in that gallant array waved his hand to me merrily, as they filed
past under their banners--the Douglas's bloody heart, the Crescent moon
of Harden, the Napier's sheaf of spears, the blazons of Lindsays and
Leslies, Homes, and Hepburns, and Stuarts. It was a sight to put life
into the dying breast of a Scot in a strange country, and all were strong
men and young, ruddy and brown of cheek, high of heart and heavy of hand.
And most beckoned to me, and pointed onwards to that way whither they
were bound, in chase of fame and fortune. All this might have made a
sick man whole, but my spirit was dead within me, so that I could scarce
beckon back to them, or even remember their faces.

"Would I forgive you," said Charlotte, after she had thrown the remnant
of her roses to her friends among the Scots, "if you hurried to me, pale,
and borne in a litter? Nay, methinks not, or not for long; and then I
should lay it on you never to see her face again;--she is I, you know,
for the nonce. But if you waited and did not come, then my pride might
yield at length, and I send for you. But then