"Alas! my poor girl," said Richard of Woodville, "yours is, indeed, a sad history; and, in truth, I know not what counsel to give you for the future. Alone, as you are, in the world, you need some one much to protect you." "I do indeed," replied the girl, "but I have none; and yet," she added, after a moment, "these are foolish thoughts, brought upon me but by grief. I can protect myself. Many have a worse fate than I have; for how often are those who have been softly nurtured cast suddenly into misfortune and distress! I have been inured to it by degrees--taught step by step to struggle and resist. Mine is not a heart to yield to evil chances. The little that I want in life, I trust, I can honestly obtain; and, if not honestly, why, I can die. There is still a home for the wanderer--there is still a place of repose for the weary." But, as she spoke, the tears that rolled over her cheeks belied the fortitude which she assumed. Richard of Woodville paused and meditated, ere he replied. "Stay," he said, at length, as the girl rose, and covered her head again with her hood, which she had cast back, as if she were about to depart. "Stay! a thought has struck me. Perchance I can call the King's bounty to you. I myself am now about to depart for distant lands. I am going to the court of Burgundy in a few days, and shall not see our sovereign again before I set out; but I have a servant, who was once the King's, and he will have the means of telling your sad tale." "To the court of Burgundy!" exclaimed the girl, eagerly; "Oh! that I were going thither with you!" "That may hardly be," replied Woodville, with a smile, as she gazed with her large dark eyes upon his face. "I know it," she answered, sighing, and cast her eyes down to the ground again, with the blood mounting into her cheek; "yet, why not in the same ship?--I have kinsfolk both in Liege and in Peronne--you would not see wrong done to me?" "Assuredly not," said the young gentleman; "but if the King can be engaged to show you kindness, it will be better. What little I can spare, my poor girl, shall be yours; and I will send this man of whom I spoke, to see you and tell you more. First, however, you must let me know where you are lodged, and for whom he must ask, as it may be three or four days before he returns from the errand he is now gone to perform."