"I hope I shall die in England," said my lady irrelevantly; "and now farewell," she added bravely. "Forgive me my sad coming."
"Come again," interrupted the Lady Elisabeth, taking her hand. "I may have news for you. Where do you lodge?"
"With Mrs. Brydon, a cousin of my father over against the Exchange. I am called Mrs. Lucas there, for any pomp is foolish in such sorry circumstances."
"Come again in a few weeks—my father is so occupied with the Spanish War—but I will speak to him of my lord's estates. Yet I can promise nothing," she added reluctantly.
"Yet I love you dearly for the kindness," replied Margaret, holding out her hands.
Elisabeth took them in her own frail fingers; these two women were strangely drawn to one another.
"I pray Heaven you will recover," added the Marchioness. "I think you will recover. Madam, you will live to be very happy."
"God may make me happy," said Elisabeth, "but not on the earth now."
"Nay, you will live to encourage other unfortunates as you have encouraged me."