After the messenger withdrew, Lady Russell touched her friend’s frock playfully.
“My dear,” she remarked, “you will not go to welcome him back to the world in this sombre garb?”
Betty glanced down dolefully.
“I brought no other,” she replied.
Lady Russell smiled and sent for Alice.
“My child,” she said, “I heard this morning that there was strong hope—yet I dared not tell you, for fear of disappointment. But I sent Alice for a gayer gown than this for your lover.”
Betty blushed like a rose, for in walked Alice, carrying in her arms the flowered brocade that her mistress had worn at Newmarket, and Alice was all smiles and tears. Nothing would do but that Lady Russell and Alice must array her as for a festival.
“For the Tower!” protested Betty, between tears and laughter, trembling and listening for a sound.
“For your husband,” whispered Lady Russell, kissing her cheek, “the king has granted you a pension sufficient for you on the Continent—alas, that you must go.”
“Ah, but with him,” said Lady Betty smiling divinely.