Mistress Ellen went away and left us together--in that showing her usual discretion--and my dear lady asked me many questions relating to my home and kindred, the long journey I had come upon and the dangers of the way. I answered readily, experiencing a rare pleasure in finding her responsive nature understand, appreciate and sympathize with everything I said. 'Oh,' said she, when at length I had told her all that I could think of just then--except indeed what I had heard at Woodleigh Castle relating to her future, which I dared not mention--not omitting the valiant deeds that Sir Hubert Blair had done for my assistance, 'how I have enjoyed hearing you talk! What you have told me is so different from anything that has ever happened to me. It is all so interesting and so like a poem, only more real and life-like than any poetry, and it is true, that is the best of all.' 'Yes; it is true,' I said. 'And I could not talk like that to any one else. There is something in you, madam, which draws out my innermost thoughts.' Lady Jane smiled, and told me that in that case I should have to be very careful always to have good thoughts, adding that I ought to read much in the Bible and in such books as the one she was perusing, and also that I ought to pray for the Holy Spirit to guide me unto all truth. I was going to inquire about the book she was reading when we were interrupted by the entrance of a gentleman richly dressed in crimson velvet embroidered with gold, and silk stockings. 'Dudley, this is my new gentlewoman,' said Lady Jane, turning to him, and then formally introducing her husband to me. The young man, who was handsome, manly, and withal most courteous in manner and bearing, spoke a kindly word or two to me, and then requested Lady Jane to allow him to take her to her litter which was waiting at the door. 'I shall see more of you to-morrow, Margery--I may call you Margery, may I not?' she said prettily, and, upon my assenting with pleasure, gave so sweet a smile that it seemed to linger after she had gone, filling me with a strange new happiness. I was fascinated with my dear lady, and stood in the empty room looking at the place where she had been and the chair where she sat, as if I were in a dream. My eyes fell upon the book which she had left upon the table and I picked it up. But, alas! the words contained in it were written in a strange language and I could not read a line. But I raised the little volume to my lips and kissed the place where her dear eyes had rested. CHAPTER IX Plato