she feels that she ought to keep away from him before it is too late, both for his sake and her own, but she is powerless to deny herself the pleasure of being with him, and I do not know what is to come of it all.  That incident of the loose girth is an illustration.  Did you ever know anything so bold and transparent?  Any one could see through it, and the worst of all is she seems not to care if every one does see.  Now look at them ahead of us!  No girl is so happy riding beside a man unless she is interested in him.  She was dull enough until he joined her.  He seemed in no hurry to come, so she resorted to the flimsy excuse of the loose girth to bring him.  I am surprised that she even sought the shadow of an excuse, but did not order him forward without any pretense of one.  Oh!  I don’t know what to do.  It troubles me greatly.  Do you know the state of his feelings?”

“No,” I answered, “but I think he is heart-whole, or nearly so.  He told me he was not fool enough to fall in love with the king’s sister, and I really believe he will keep his heart and head, even at that dizzy height.  He is a cool fellow, if there ever was one.”

“He certainly is different from other men,” returned Jane.  “I think he has never spoken a word of love to her.  He has said some pretty things, which she has repeated to me; has moralized to some extent, and has actually told her of some of her faults.  I should like to see anyone else take that liberty.  She seems to like it from him, and says he inspires her with higher, better motives and a yearning to be good; but I am sure he has made no love to her.”

“Perhaps it would be better if he did.  It might cure her,” I replied.

“Oh! no! no! not now; at first, perhaps, but not now.  What I fear is that if he remains silent much longer she will take matters in hand and speak herself.  I don’t like to say that—­it doesn’t sound well—­but she is a princess, and it would be different with her from what it would be with an ordinary girl; she might have to speak first, or there might be no speaking from one who thought his position too far beneath hers.  She whose smallest desires drive her so, will never forego so great a thing as the man she loves only for the want of a word or two.”

Then it was that Jane told me of the scene with the note, of the little whispered confidence upon their pillows, and a hundred other straws that showed only too plainly which way this worst of ill winds was blowing—­with no good in it for any one.  Now who could have foretold this?  It was easy enough to prophesy that Brandon would learn to love Mary, excite a passing interest, and come off crestfallen, as all other men had done.  But that Mary should love Brandon, and he remain heart-whole, was an unlooked-for event—­one that would hardly have been predicted by the shrewdest prophet.

What Lady Jane said troubled me greatly, as it was but the confirmation of my own fears.  Her opportunity to know was far better than mine, but I had seen enough to set me thinking.