been roused by what he had heard, he determined to be governed in his conduct towards her by the result of the investigation.  Accordingly, though it cost him an effort, he held back.  As the Conde de Gondomar appeared, Sir Thomas Lake arose, and made him a profound salutation, which was returned with equal ceremony by the Spanish Ambassador.  The latter, however, did not take a seat, but remained standing with Lord Roos, whose presence was acknowledged by a cold and distant bow from his father-in-law.  The young nobleman did not appear in the slightest degree disconcerted by the reception he met with, or apprehensive of the result of the investigation.  He jested apart with De Gondomar; and both he and the Spanish Ambassador appeared greatly amused by Gillian’s embarrassment.  Behind him stood his servant Diego.

“You are handmaiden to the Countess of Exeter, I presume?” demanded Lady Lake of the damsel.

“I am, my lady,” she answered.

“The girl does not look as if the imputations cast upon her character can be true,” observed Sir Thomas Lake.

As this was said, poor Gillian became suffused with blushes, and hung her head.

“Before I put any further questions to her,” remarked Lady Lake, “I will ask Lord Roos if he still persists in affirming that it was this damsel who visited him last night?”

Dick Taverner looked as if his fate depended upon the response the young nobleman might make to the inquiry.

“I must decline to answer your ladyship’s question,” returned Lord Roos.

“Why cannot he speak out?” muttered Dick.  “This uncertainty is worse than anything.”

“What says the damsel herself,” observed Sir Thomas Lake.  “Does she admit the charge?”

“You cannot expect her to do that, Sir Thomas,” interposed Lord Roos.

“I expect her to answer my question,” rejoined the Secretary of State, sharply.  “Were you in Lord Roos’s room last night?” he added, to Gillian.

“Oh, dear!  I am ready to faint,” she exclaimed.  “Catch me, Dick—­catch me!”

“Answer ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ or I won’t,” he rejoined.

“Well, then, ‘yes!’ if I must say something,” she replied.

Poor Dick fell back, as if struck by a shot.

“I don’t believe it,” cried Sir Thomas.

“Nor I either,” said Dick, recovering himself.  “I don’t believe she could do such a wicked thing.  Besides, it was the foreign ambassador, there,” he added, pointing to De Gondomar, “who seemed most enamoured of her yesterday; and I shouldn’t have been so much surprised if she had gone to see him.  Perhaps she did,” he continued, addressing the poor damsel, who again hung her head.

“I can take upon me to affirm that such was not the case,” observed De Gondomar.

“Have you the lock of hair with you?” whispered Sir Thomas to his lady.

“I have,” she replied, taking a small packet from her bosom.