CHAPTER XXII
AS IT FELL OUT
When consciousness returned to Francis Stafford she was lying on a couch in the presence chamber with her mother bending over her.
“Mother,” she cried as a full realization of all that had taken place rushed over her. “He is gone! My father is gone, and he hath cursed me!” And she burst into a flood of tears.
“Think not on it, child,” said the mother, her own eyes streaming. “Thou didst try him greatly. It was ill in thee not to return to us, but thou art young and full well do I ken the allurements that court life holds for youth. But this thy father could have pardoned had this been all.”
“My mother, art thou too against me?” The girl struggled to a sitting position, her indignation giving her strength. “Dost thou believe that I betrayed my father, or 230 that I lingered at court from choice? Then what avails it if I tell thee all? Am I not thy child, and wherefore should I do so evil? Would that I had died ere this had come upon me!”
She flung herself back upon the couch and wept bitterly. Her mother, alarmed at the intensity of her grief, strove to soothe her.
“Let me make my moan, mother. If my father would have but listened, he would have known that I did not betray him; but he would not. He would not!”