"What gold they had," said Patience, "I took to France with me, and all these years it has served us. There is not much left, and as for lands they are forfeited. Cromwell did what he chose with them and gave them to whom he would. So you see, my child, you must be prudent. One thing you have which you must hold--your good name."
"Agnes Beaumont," said the girl.
"That is not all, you have another name," said Patience, looking at her, "but I have sworn not to reveal it to you until your wedding day or till you are of age."
"Why not?" she asked. "Why should not I know my own name?"
"Because it might be a danger to you," answered Patience. "There are those who might wish you ill and do you wrong. When you have a husband you will have someone to defend you; when you are of age you must judge for yourself."
"Does no one except you know who I am?" asked Agnes.
"Yes, the queen-dowager knows, and the king," said Patience. "When he gives you back what is yours, then he will tell you himself what your station is."
Tears gathered in Agnes's eyes.
"I do not like it," she said. "Have I anything to be ashamed of?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"Ashamed!" exclaimed Patience. "No, indeed! far from that. I tell you it is for your own personal good, to shield you from those who have taken your lands from you and who might resent their being restored to you. You are the last of your race; your very birth has been hidden, but it will all come right one day if only you will be patient."