"Remember the promise that thou didst make, when we lived in happier times. When our path seemed flooded with the light of Heaven. Then came this heavy cloud, that seemeth ever to grow blacker. Let us sweep on from beneath its chilling shadow, and let the sun of love and happiness, as we stroll among the flowers, beneath the trees of our joint home, drive away the troubled memories of this heart-chilling imprisonment within the dreary walls of a Sanctuary, made yet more sad by the unfortunate family which here takes refuge. Thou canst not help them by thus sharing their sorrows, and it doth but make two other souls unhappy." As I spoke these words the scene, drawn by my mind as I paced back and forth across my room that happy night of the last ball given by Edward at Windsor, when all my ambitions seemed about to be realized, and yet when the first clouds were gathering, came again clearly to my mind. I therefore waited, with the pain of expectation, for Hazel to answer.
When, after a short silence, in which she seemed weighing her reasons both pro and con granting my request, her answer came, and was partly what I had hoped to hear, and wholly what I had expected.
"Yes, Walter, the promise that I made to thee that night, when we were both so light of heart, and which now seemeth such a long time since, I long to now fulfil. Yet," she continued, with a sigh, "my gratitude for those which have ever been so kind to me doth whisper to my love and it bids it wait, for but a little space, and show them some sacrifice, to repay them for their kindness. Still do I promise thee," she continued quickly, as she saw my jaw drop in disappointment, "to wait a short time only; and if, after the King's coronation, the condition of the Queen's family changes not, then will I ask my dear foster-mother for her consent to our union taking place at once."
"Wilt thou indeed?"
"Ay, indeed; though even this I fear to be selfish in me, and looketh as though I cared not for the troubles of my friends, when I can be happy whilst they suffer."
"Nay, not so," I replied, as some of the reasoning of Harleston came to my mind. "Life is given but that it may be enjoyed. Some accomplish this purpose in one way; some, another. Sorrow is sent but that it may teach us how to enjoy happiness the better. We all must have our sorrow. Some have more, and some less of this chastening agent's presence. The reason for this I know not, unless it be that some of us require a more severe training ere we are capable of following our especial path in life, without straying off upon by-ways that nature never intended we should tread. Some, I will admit, seem never to have found their way. The consequence is, remorseless Nature, who departs not from her laws, with stern hand of iron scourges him full hard. Sometimes this drives him to his more fitting path; again it maketh him to despair, and, filled with spleen and useless stubbornness, he ploddeth on along a path not suited to his step, when there, within reach of his sight, had he but turned his head, doth lie his own fair way. Some few hills there are, of course; but these are suited to his stature."
"By my troth thou hast been changed by Frederick into a full-fledged philosopher," laughed Hazel. "But tell me the lesson that this should teach to me, and why I should not longer tarry with the Queen."
"'Tis this," I replied. "Her Majesty's path is now blocked up with obstacles. 'Tis right that thou shouldst sympathize with her, and cheer her on. Yea, if it be within thy power to lend to her assistance, thou art bound by the bonds of love and gratitude to give it. Still, it is not required of thee, by either of these ennobling masters, that thou shouldst tread her path thyself. Nay," I continued, as I saw a look that told me I had gained my point steal o'er her face, "'tis even wrong for thee to leave the way that Nature chose for thee to cheer."
"Thine eloquence hath won me from the doubt that haunted me and made me to feel ungrateful. But truly, Walter, thou must stop thy bursts of poetic speeches, lest in the future thy songs do change the minds of people, and Master Chaucer's wit then be forgot," and she laughed in mine earnest face, until I joined her in her gaiety.