“Very well, Madame Destiny.”  Then turning to us:  “What ought I to do for one who is willing to stoop from so high an estate to honor me and be my wife?”

“Love her, and her alone, with your whole heart, as long as you live.  That is all she wants, I am sure,” volunteered Jane, sentimentally.

“Jane, you are a Madam Solomon,” said Mary, with a tone of her old-time laugh.  “Is the course you advise as you would wish to be done by?” And she glanced mischievously from Jane to me, as the laugh bubbled up from her heart, merry and soft as if it had not come from what was but now the home of grief and pain.

“I know nothing about how I should like to be done by,” said Jane, with a pout, “but if you have such respect for my wisdom I will offer a little more; I think it is time we should be going.”

“Now, Jane, you are growing foolish again; I will not go yet,” and Mary made manifest her intention by sitting down.  She could not bring herself to forego the pleasure of staying, dangerous as she knew it to be, and could not bear the pain of parting, even for a short time, now that she had Brandon once more.  The time was soon coming—­but I am too fast again.

After a time Brandon said:  “I think Jane’s wisdom remains with her, Mary.  It is better that you do not stay, much as I wish to have you.”

She was ready to obey him at once.

When she arose to go she took both his hands in hers and whispered:  “‘Mary.’  I like the name on your lips,” and then glancing hurriedly over her shoulder to see if Jane and I were looking, lifted her face to him and ran after us.

We were a little in advance of the princess, and, as we walked along, Jane said under her breath:  “Now look out for trouble; it will come quickly, and I fear for Master Brandon more than any one.  He has made a noble fight against her and against himself, and it is no wonder she loves him.”

This made me feel a little jealous.

“Jane, you could not love him, could you?” I asked.

“No matter what I could do, Edwin; I do not, and that should satisfy you.”  Her voice and manner said more than her words.  The hall was almost dark, and—­I have always considered that occasion one of my lost opportunities; but they are not many.

The next evening Brandon and I, upon Lady Mary’s invitation, went up to her apartments, but did not stay long, fearing some one might find us there and cause trouble.  We would not have gone at all had not the whole court been absent in London, for discovery would have been a serious matter to one of us at least.

As I told you once before, Henry did not care how much Brandon might love his sister, but Buckingham had whispered suspicions of the state of Mary’s heart, and his own observations, together with the intercepted note, had given these suspicions a stronger coloring, so that a very small matter might turn them into certainties.