"Why, I was foolish, lady," said the girl; "and perhaps you may think me wrong too, and bold. But when I heard that he was going to Burgundy, I cried, 'Oh, that I were going with you!' And I told him that I had kinsfolk both in Liege and in Peronne; and then I knew by his look, and what he said, that there was some lady whom he loved, and who loved him." "How did that enlighten you?" inquired Mary Markham. "Did he refuse you?--That were not courteous, I think." "No, he did not actually refuse," answered Ella Brune, "but he said, that it might hardly be; and I saw, he thought that his lady might be jealous--might suspect--" Mary Markham put her hand on Ella's, with a warm smile, and said, "I will neither suspect him, nor be jealous of you, Ella--though perhaps I might have been," she added; "yes, perhaps I might, if I had heard you were with him, and I had not known why. Yet I should have been very wrong. Out upon such doubts I say, if they can prevent a true-hearted gentleman from doing an act of kindness to a poor girl in her need, lest a jealous heart should suspect him. But I will write to him, Ella: and yet it is now in vain; for he has left Westminster." Ella gazed at her, smiling. "We know not our own hearts," she said; "and, perhaps, dear lady, you might be jealous yet." "No, no!" cried Mary, with one of her own joyous laughs again. "Never, now. I am of a confiding nature, my poor girl; and I soon conquer those bitter enemies of peace, called doubts." Ella Brune gazed round the room. "If I had some instrument, I could sing to you on that theme," she said. "Nay, you can sing without, Ella," replied the lady. "I have none here, alas!" "Well, I will sing it, then," answered Ella Brune; "'tis an old ditty, and a simple one;" and, leaning her hand on Mary Markham's knee, she sang:-- SONG. "Trust! trust! sweet lady, trust! 'Tis a shield of seven-fold steel. Cares and sorrows come they must; But sharper far is doubt to feel. Trust! trust! sweet lady, trust! "If deceit must vex the heart-- Who can pass through life without?-- Better far to bear the smart Than to grind the soul with doubt. Trust! trust! sweet lady, trust! "Trust the lover, trust the friend; Heed not what old rhymers tell. Trust to God: and in the end Doubt not all will still be well. Trust! trust! sweet lady, trust! "Love's best guide, and friendship's stay-- Trust, to innocence was given; 'Tis doubt that paves the downward way, But trust unlocks the gates of heaven. Trust! trust! sweet lady, trust!"