Milton, afterwards pouring forth at times torrents of fiery eloquence against bishops and other such terrible evils, was wont to suddenly check himself with a smile, saying that it were too grievous a forfeit for his bold utterance of his opinions, that his poems must on that account perchance ever go unread by so fair a Welsh maiden. Yet the purchase of her goodwill by introducing her to the renowned prisoner appearing for the present time impossible, he felt himself more free of utterance! And so Master Milton went on to Rome, and Primrose did not see Galileo, though many other wonderful and beautiful things she saw which time and space forbid me to relate. And after some little time she also with Lady Bryn Afon journeyed on to Rome and thence to Naples, returning home early in the month of April by sea, greatly to her delight and enjoyment. So the warm spring days brought her once more to the sunny Gwynnon Valley, and to her simple home and tender guardian's homely care, and she set herself to a full and lingering enjoyment of the few weeks yet remaining ere her twenty-first birthday came round. Of the old castle on the hill Jack had no news to tell. Lord Bryn Afon and his chaplain had neither been seen nor heard of in the valley during the long winter months, and although Primrose knew already well enough that they had spent the winter in town, Lord Bryn Afon having been in attendance upon the king, yet she felt a certain unreasonable disappointment at their having paid no short visit to the ruined castle, having suffered her imagination to place them there at intervals during the winter months, and to view them both, more especially the chaplain, holding pleasant intercourse with Jack by the riverside--in which intercourse who could tell but that her name might have found by chance some humble place? So the sweet spring days ran on, when the smiling valley grew full of new life and beauty day by day, but when Primrose sadly felt that for her each new bud was surely opening for the last time, and every bird singing a song which told of coming pain and parting--of old life ended and new life begun--of love which they were sure of finding in their leafy homes, but which for her was shrouded in dim uncertainty and doubt and longing. For ere many more days should pass, that dreaded birthday must come round, and her unknown mother would claim her--and who could tell if she would really love her with half the love of the tender guardian from whom she must part, and who could tell, moreover, whither that mother might take her--how far from Sir Galahad, and with what doubt and dread of their never meeting more? CHAPTER XXI. A LONG-DREADED SUMMONS. "Who, grown familiar with the sky, will grope Henceforward among groundlings?" --ROBERT BROWNING.