ds, love best the most dexterous huntsman!"

CHAPTER VII. HOW KING EDWARD ARRIVES AT THE CASTLE OF MIDDLEHAM.

On the ramparts of feudal Middleham, in the same place where Anne had
confessed to Isabel the romance of her childish love, again the sisters
stood, awaiting the coming of their father and the king. They had only,
with their mother, reached Middleham two days before, and the preceding
night an advanced guard had arrived at the castle to announce the
approach of the earl with his royal comrade and visitor. From the
heights, already they beheld the long array winding in glorious order
towards the mighty pile.

"Look!" exclaimed Isabel, "look! already methinks I see the white steed
of Clarence. Yes! it is he! it is my George, my husband! The banner
borne before shows his device."

"Ah, happy Isabel!" said Anne, sighing; "what rapture to await the
coming of him one loves!"

"My sweet Anne," returned Isabel, passing her arm tenderly round her
sister's slender waist, "when thou hast conquered the vain folly of thy
childhood, thou wilt find a Clarence of thine own. And yet," added the
young duchess, smiling, "it must be the opposite of a Clarence to be to
thy heart what a Clarence is to mine. I love George's gay humour,--thou
lovest a melancholy brow. I love that charming weakness which supples to
my woman will,--thou lovest a proud nature that may command thine own.
I do not respect George less, because I know my mind stronger than his
own; but thou (like my gentle mother) wouldst have thy mate lord and
chief in all things, and live from his life as the shadow from the sun.
But where left you our mother?"

"In the oratory, at prayer."

"She has been sad of late."

"The dark times darken her; and she ever fears the king's falseness or
caprice will stir the earl up to some rash emprise. My father's letter,
brought last night to her, contains something that made her couch
sleepless."

"Ha!" exclaimed the duchess, eagerly, "my mother confides in thee more
than me. Saw you the letter?"

"No."

"Edward will make himself unfit to reign," said Isabel, abruptly. "The
barons will call on him to resign; and then--and then, Anne--sister
Anne,--Warwick's daughters cannot be born to be simple subjects!"

"Isabel, God temper your ambition! Oh, curb it, crush it down! Abuse
not your influence with Clarence. Let not the brother aspire to the
brother's crown."

"Sister, a king's diadem covers all the sins scheme