Trust! trust! sweet lady, trust!
"Love's best guide, and friendship's stay--
Trust, to innocence was given;
'Tis doubt that paves the downward way,
But trust unlocks the gates of heaven.
Trust! trust! sweet lady, trust!"
"And so I will, Ella," cried the lady; "so have I ever done, and will do still; but methinks you have made the song to suit my ear."
"Nay, in truth, dear lady, it is an ancient one," replied Ella Brune; but ere she could add more, old Sir Philip Beauchamp strode into the room, with an air hurried, yet not dissatisfied.
"I have seen the King, Mary," he said; "and, on my life, he is a noble youth--right kingly in his port and in his words. His brother John, who won his spurs under my pennon when but a boy, soon got me speech of him; and you are to go with me at once to his presence, pretty maid. Nay, do not look downcast; he is no frightful tyrant, but a man that lady's eyes may look upon well pleased; and 'tis needful for your safety you should go."
"Must she go alone, dear knight?" asked Mary Markham, with kind consideration for the girl's fears.