But he is a good as well as wise and learned friend, and his influence with your dear father is great; and now, combined with that of our beloved chaplain, who has likewise devoted himself, for reasons of his own, to our unfortunate house, may verily be potent for good." "Poor Lady Gwendolen!" said Primrose softly. "I am glad her lover is faithful to her memory! I marvel not that so sad a life-sorrow should have given such sternness to his countenance, and wrought in it such deep lines of pain. I have oft studied his face with wonder, seeing therein surely some sad secret history of woe. That may perchance be the reason why he has ever from my babyhood been so tender with me--that I bear, as you have told me, some little likeness to his lost love in my own countenance. He has ever borne patiently with my childish wiles for the sake of that sweet and fair Lady Gwendolen! Poor Black Horseman!" And burying her face in her mother's lap, Primrose relapsed into wondering silence, and long they both remained, deep in thought, till Lady Bryn Afon roused herself at last, and gently led her daughter to her chamber, where she lingered, to brush out with her own hands her wealth of golden hair, saying with a half-sad smile, as she lovingly twined them in her fingers; "These tresses are worth a kingdom!" Then bidding her sleep well, nor be disturbed by any thought of what had passed between them, she retired to her own apartment, leaving Primrose, in spite of her injunction, to toss restlessly from side to side for hours, thinking, too deeply for sleep, over her strange history, and wondering above all if the chaplain as yet knew aught of it, and what could be his own secret reason for devoting his services, as the Black Horseman had done, to her ill-starred house. CHAPTER XXIII. PERCIVAL'S PRIVILEGE. "Life is--to wake not sleep, Rise and not rest, but press From earth's level, where blindly creep Things perfected, more or less, To the heaven's height, far and steep." --ROBERT BROWNING.