master. It was a sorrowful little song, with
the title, "He seeketh comfort in patience," and possibly she chose it on
purpose for this evening.

"Patience! for I have wrong,
And dare not shew wherein;
Patience shall be my song;
Since truth can nothing win.
Patience then for this fit;
Hereafter comes not yet."

While she sang, she thought no doubt of the foolish brave courtier who
lacked patience in spite of his singing, and lost his head for it; her
voice shook once or twice: and old Sir Nicholas shook his drowsy head
when she had finished, and said "God rest him," and then fell fast
asleep.

Then he presently awoke as the others talked in whispers, and joined in
too: and they talked of Anthony, and what he would find at Cambridge; and
of Alderman Marrett, and his house off Cheapside, where Anthony would lie
that night; and of such small and tranquil topics, and left fiercer
questions alone. And so the evening came to an end; and Isabel said
good-night, and went downstairs with Hubert, and out into the garden
again.

"I am sorry that Sir Nicholas has been so troubled," she said to Hubert,
as they turned the corner of the house together. "Why cannot we leave one
another alone, and each worship God as we think fit?"

Hubert smiled in the darkness to himself.

"I am afraid Queen Mary did not think it could be done, either," he said.
"But then, Mistress Isabel," he went on, "I am glad that you feel that
religion should not divide people."

"Surely not," she said, "so long as they love God."

"Then you think--" began Hubert, and then stopped. Isabel turned to him.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Nothing," said Hubert.

They had reached the door in the boundary wall by now, and Isabel would
not let him come further with her and bade him good-night. But Hubert
still stood, with his hand on the door, and watched the white figure fade
into the dusk, and listened to the faint rustle of her skirt over the dry
leaves; and then, when he heard at last the door of the Dower House open
and close, he sighed to himself and went home.

Isabel heard her father call from his room as she passed through the
hall; and went in to him as he sat at his table in his furred gown, with
his books about him, to bid him good-night and receive his blessing. He
lifted his hand for a moment to finish the sentence he was writing, and
she stood watching the quill move and pause and move again over the
paper, in the candlelig