"Well, it matters not," answered Woodville; "certainly I would fain know who he is, for then I might court him as a lover does his bride, for Mary's sake: but yet you must keep your promise to him, and to me too; and whenever you are free to speak, you must give me tidings, dear girl; for in all the thousand chances of this world, I might mar my own hopes, even while seeking to fulfil them." "I will, I will," replied Mary Markham; "but hark! I hear your uncle's step, Richard. I will but add one word more to cheer you. Perhaps, if I judge right, we may not be so long ere we meet again, as you suppose--and now, God prosper you, my own true squire." As she spoke, the good old knight, Sir Philip Beauchamp, entered the room, with a grave and somewhat perplexed air. It soon became evident, however, that whatever annoyed or embarrassed him, it was not the presence of his nephew; for he greeted him kindly, holding out his hand to him, saying, "Ay, you here, foolish boy!--still the moth and the candle! But if you needs must love, why, let it lead you to honour and renown. What brought you to London? To buy arms?" "No, sir; to see the King," replied his nephew. "He sent me a messenger, bearing letters for me to the court of Burgundy, and gave me to understand that I might come to visit him, if I would." The old knight, in his meditative mood, seemed to catch some of Woodville's words, and miss the others. "Letters to the court of Burgundy," he said. "Well! from Harry of England, they should smooth thy path, boy. Would to Heaven, you two were not lovers!--Not that I would speak ill of love; 'tis the duty of every gentleman to vow his service to some fair lady. At least, as it was so in my young day; but we have sorely declined since then--sorely, sorely, nephew of mine; and love was then quite a different affair from now--when it must needs end in marriage, or worse. It was a high and ennobling passion in those times, leading knights and gentlemen to seek praise, and do high deeds; not for their own sakes, but for the honour of the ladies whom they served, nor requiring reward even from them, but for pure and high affection, and the pleasure of exalting them. Thus, many a man loved a lady--either placed far above him, or removed from his reach by being wedded to another--without sin, or shame, or presumption; for love, as I have said, was a high and ennobling feeling in those days, which taught men to do what is right, not what is wrong." "Well, my noble uncle," replied Richard of Woodville, "and so it may be now; and it will have the same effect with me. But one thing I do know, that I would rather do high deeds to exalt my own wife, than another man's: I would rather serve a lady that I may win, than a lady I have no right to seek. Methinks it is both more honest and more safe; and, by God's blessing, I will win her, too, if I live long enough, and have fair play."