"But you have shown me the heart, too," replied Seymour; "and as I was saying, this art, which you have used to cover your feelings on many subjects, may well be employed now, to hide what you think of this. Treat the matter as an idle jest--a thing of no importance--too foolish to be judged seriously; and thus, perhaps, the King--especially if Cecil be not near him, which he was not when I came away--may take measures to avert all danger, and yet not think the subject so important as to require the sword of justice. He is of a light and trifling disposition, given to the discussion of fine subtleties, full of learned importance and self-satisfaction, but, I should think, not cruel."
"I do not know," said Arabella, thoughtfully. "Placed amidst perilous rocks, the pilot watches narrowly each ripple on the surface of the sea. Thus, in the dangers of a position too high for safety, and too low for power, I have scanned narrowly the actions and demeanours of men, and I have always remarked, that those who are the fondest of trifles, and give little weight to things of real importance, are generally cruel, treating human suffering as a trifle also. But that I must not think of; the only way for myself and them is, as you say, to give the whole a laughing air. But come, Seymour, let us go--they will think that we stay long."
"Nay, nay, dear Arabella," replied her lover; "the consciousness of our own happiness makes us often think that others see through the disguises we assume to conceal it. Let us not even lose a minute of the time during which we may be to each other Arabella Stuart and William Seymour. The time will come soon enough to be Madam and Sir again. They who know not when or how we met, will not look at the clock to see how long we have been together."
Arabella smiled. "Love's sophistry, Seymour!" she said: "but my good aunt of Shrewsbury is at the house; and, let me tell you, her eyes are quick, her thoughts keen, although she be kind and noble, and I do not know that she would frown upon our affection, even were she aware of it."
"I do not think she would," replied Seymour, eagerly; "she has ever been a kind friend to me, and, though of as lofty a spirit as any woman now on earth, yet she does not forget that there are human passions in all hearts, and that they will be listened to."
"Yet we must confide in no one," answered Arabella, with a serious air; "our secret is but safe in our own breasts. She has lately caught me somewhat in a sighing mood; and but last night, vowing I was in love, she reckoned over on her fingers some ten men of the court; but happily your name was not amongst them, or perhaps the unruly colour in my cheek might have betrayed the truth. Nay, let us go, we shall soon meet again; and as we walk soberly towards the house, we can speak all our thoughts to each other with whatever kind words we will, looking all the while demure and grave as if we were solving some deep problem of lines and angles. In good truth, William," she continued, as they went on, "were it not as well to set up some apparent lover at the court, to hide my rash friend's somewhat real suit?"
"Nay, I should be jealous, then, indeed," said Seymour.
"That would be pleasant," answered Arabella, laughing; "nothing but jealousy is wanting, I think, to make your love perfect. But I fear that he of whom I thought, is not capable of raising the sweet yellow passion in your breast. What would you say to Fowler, the queen's secretary?"
Seymour smiled. "Oh! the crack-brained fool," he cried, "he surely would never raise his eyes so high."
"Nay, nay, you know not," answered Arabella; "I have had delicate speeches about bright eyes and coral lips, and verses over and above full of sighing swains and dying swans, and all the ammunition of pastoral love. 'Tis a perilous case, I assure you."