The Lord-General rose and went up to her.
"You are tired!" she cried, noting that before all, and she caught his arms and peered up into his face tenderly through the dim light.
"Mother," said Mrs. Claypole, rising from beside the empty chair—"the new orders are decided upon to-day——"
"Ah!" cried Cromwell's wife, "and thou?"
"My dear, my best," he said, "we must live at Whitehall now——"
"The king's palace?" she exclaimed, recoiling a little.
"Yea," he answered gently, "for I am called to be the new Governor of this country."
"Why, that is a fearful thing!" she said, with a half-terrified laugh. "Thou wilt never more be safe, nor I at peace!"
She let go her hold on his sleeves and moved to the fire.
"I was happier before it all began," she said abruptly; "this startles me." She gave again that piteous laugh, which was more like a sob. "I am too old to learn to be a Prince's lady," she said.