Mistress Crawley now appeared, and, seizing Lucy by the shoulder, exclaimed,—
'You impudent child! How dare you stop Mr Sidney? Return at once, or I'll have you dismissed.'
'Gently, good Mistress Crawley,' Philip Sidney said. 'It was I who was seeking Mistress Lucy. Allow me to take her to the Countess's apartment, where I fear ill news awaits her concerning her family at Penshurst.'
Philip Sidney's voice and manner had almost a magic power.
Mistress Crawley begged his pardon, nor would she wish to interfere with her lady's orders. She would take another opportunity of reporting Mistress Forrester's conduct to her. And, with a profound curtsey to Philip, and an angry glance at Lucy, she retreated from the field to renew her attack at a more convenient season.
'Oh! sir,' Lucy began, 'a letter was brought for me, and Mistress Crawley would not suffer me to have it. I was angry—' and Lucy cast down her eyes, the long lashes wet with tears; she could not meet the calm, grave face looking down on her.
Yet through all, there was the sense of infinite delight that Mr Sidney was her friend, and that Mistress Crawley was discomfited.
'My poor child,' he said, 'I am sorry for you, if, as I think, the letter contains news of your sister's illness and of her great trouble.'
'Mary, is it Mary who is sick, sir?'
'Yes, and worse than that, her boy has been stolen from her.'