"It is no mystery," said Patience, "only because we feared those to whom Cromwell might give her lands, and what evil might befall her in consequence, have I kept it secret, and the queen also." Then, taking Agnes by the hand, she pointed to the two pictures and said:
"That is your father, Sir Gilbert de Lisle, and that is your mother, Agnes, his young wife, and my sister. This place belongs to me, it was part of my inheritance, and when your father joined the king's army he entreated me to bring his wife hither because it is a quiet place, and because to leave her alone at De Lisle Abbey would have been to expose her to great danger if the king's army were routed. I consented, and he brought her himself to the Holt, and here they parted never to meet again. Our worst fears were realized: your father was killed at Worcester, and from that hour your mother never lifted her head. She waited to give you birth, and died within the week, desiring me to take you as soon as I could over to France to Queen Henrietta Maria. I was loath to do so; I would sooner have kept you here. But she proved right, for before long Cromwell laid his hands on everything, distributed lands and estates, and a child like you, with no one to protect you, would probably have fared badly. We heard that the whole of the De Lisle estate had been bestowed upon a Parliamentarian, but who he was we do not know."
Agnes turned sharply round:
"But I know," she said.
"Who?" asked Patience.
"Colonel Newbolt!" answered Agnes.
"How do you know?" asked the vicar.
"Because, as Aunt Patience knows, his son and daughter are great friends of mine, and as we were talking one day they told me they had come into lands belonging to Royalists. I asked the name of the Royalists, and Reginald answered, 'The De Lisles'. Afterwards Ann told me all about the De Lisles, and the legend concerning them. Then again, I heard from an old man that though they had been driven out the De Lisles would come back again. But Ann and Reginald are my dear friends! I will not have them turned out for me! They would have gone of themselves if they had been asked, but they shall not be asked; they are my friends." And she burst out weeping.
It was such an unusual thing for Agnes to weep that Patience took her in her arms, and petted and made much of her.
"We will leave things in God's hands, my child," she said. "If He gives you back your own it will be well; if not, then it will be well also."