'Fairly well,' Sir Philip replied. 'She is young and somewhat fragile, but I trust will soon be able to join me at Flushing.'
After the exchange of a few more kindly words and congratulations, Sir Philip Sidney was leaving the Cathedral, when a figure, still kneeling in the nave, arrested his attention, and as his footsteps drew near, the bowed head was raised, and Sir Philip saw it was Lucy Forrester.
He passed on, but lingered outside for a few moments, till, as he expected, Lucy came out.
'I am glad to see you once more,' Sir Philip said; 'if only to bid you farewell, and to assure you I will not fail to track out the villain, who may, at least, give me tidings of Mistress Gifford's boy. I will see her also, if possible.'
'You are very good, sir,' Lucy said.
But she moved on with quick steps towards St Anne's Gateway.
'Have you aught that I can convey to Mistress Gifford? If so, commit it to my care at Penshurst, whither, I suppose, you go with the Countess on the morrow or next day. Then we shall meet again—so now, farewell.'
Years had passed since Lucy had subdued the tumultuous throb at her heart when in Sir Philip's presence. He was still her ideal of all that was noble and pure and courteous; her true knight, who, having filled her childish and girlish dreams, still reigned supreme.
There are mysteries in the human heart that must ever remain unfathomable, and it is not for us to judge one another when we are confronted by them, and can find no clue to solve them.
Lucy Forrester's romantic love for Sir Philip Sidney had worked her no ill; rather, it had strengthened her on the way; and from that night when she and Mary Gifford had exchanged their secrets she had striven to keep her promise, and to be, as she had said she wished to be, really good.