"Yet we must confide in no one," answered Arabella, with a serious air; "our secret is but safe in our own breasts. She has lately caught me somewhat in a sighing mood; and but last night, vowing I was in love, she reckoned over on her fingers some ten men of the court; but happily your name was not amongst them, or perhaps the unruly colour in my cheek might have betrayed the truth. Nay, let us go, we shall soon meet again; and as we walk soberly towards the house, we can speak all our thoughts to each other with whatever kind words we will, looking all the while demure and grave as if we were solving some deep problem of lines and angles. In good truth, William," she continued, as they went on, "were it not as well to set up some apparent lover at the court, to hide my rash friend's somewhat real suit?" "Nay, I should be jealous, then, indeed," said Seymour. "That would be pleasant," answered Arabella, laughing; "nothing but jealousy is wanting, I think, to make your love perfect. But I fear that he of whom I thought, is not capable of raising the sweet yellow passion in your breast. What would you say to Fowler, the queen's secretary?" Seymour smiled. "Oh! the crack-brained fool," he cried, "he surely would never raise his eyes so high." "Nay, nay, you know not," answered Arabella; "I have had delicate speeches about bright eyes and coral lips, and verses over and above full of sighing swains and dying swans, and all the ammunition of pastoral love. 'Tis a perilous case, I assure you." Seymour laughed lightly. "In truth," he exclaimed, "this is a rival to be feared. I shall go distracted, Arabella, if you give him but a glance too much." But the lady had fallen into thought again, and, looking up, she said, "This letter, and the duty that it enforces on me, weigh down my heart, Seymour. Lord Cobham, too, has ever been kind and courteous to me--I cannot think that this treason is of his designing." "Oh, no!" cried William Seymour, "he is but the tool, dear girl; and I trust that so it will appear; in which case it will be easy for his friends to gain his pardon. But here comes some one from the house; and now for all due reverence." Arabella cast down her eyes with a look of painful anxiety; and the moment after they filled with tears. "With all due reverence!" she repeated. "Alas! William, when and how will this end?" He gazed upon her with a look of deep and tender affection, but did not reply; for a servant, evidently in search of the lady, was now rapidly approaching. As the man's step came near, Arabella looked up and said, "I suppose my aunt has sent you, Ralph, to tell me that there are messengers from the King; but I have met this gentleman in the park, and am returning to receive his Majesty's commands." "Yes, madam," replied the man; "but I had charge to tell you also that Sir Harry West is here; and I saw Master George Brooke ride up as I came away."