“I wish well to him because he is to be the Queen’s husband, and she has no more loyal subject than myself. I could not wish him better than to be the chosen spouse of so excellent a Princess.” “He might be better pleased, Madam, if her Majesty resembled you,” observed Philip. “The Prince cannot be of your opinion, Sir,” returned Constance, “for I hear he is singularly devout. He will require no other graces in her Majesty save those of her mind and heart.” “You have been rightly informed as to the Prince’s zeal in religious matters, Madam,” said Philip. “He is as strict as you appear to be; but he is by no means indifferent to beauty, and I am certain he could not behold you unmoved.” “You do him wrong, Sir,” said Constance. “The Queen must now exclusively occupy his heart. A thought of any other would be sinful, and a pious prince would never indulge such a thought.” “A very pertinent remark. I trust he may profit by it,” muttered Osbert. “The sin being involuntary, would lie lightly on his conscience,” observed Philip. “But I must prevail on the Prince to mention your name to the Queen. She ought to be made acquainted with your merits, and might, possibly, find some place for you near her royal person.” “I pray you, Sir, do not. I have no desire to emerge from my present obscurity. But for my father, I should embrace the life of a cloister. That is my real vocation.” “It must not be, Madam!” exclaimed Osbert, unable to restrain himself. “You would do a wrong to society to deprive it of its chief ornament.” “You see, Madam, that this gentleman is as much opposed to the step as I myself should be,” observed Philip. “You must not quit a world you are so well calculated to adorn. No, no; you must be one of her Majesty’s attendants—you must grace a court.” “I grace a court!” exclaimed Constance. “I am not fit for it. But you are mocking me, Sir.” “By Saint Iago I am not!” cried Philip. “I was never more serious in my life. I will prove to you I am in earnest——” “Nay, I desire no such proof, Sir,” interrupted Constance, alarmed by his impassioned tone. “I must go. Do not detain me. I have stayed too long already discoursing with a stranger.” “It will be your own fault if I continue a stranger to you, sweet Constance,” said Philip. “Rather than you should doubt my sincerity, I will declare myself.” “Hold!” exclaimed Osbert. “Pardon me,” he added to the Prince; “I feel it my duty to interpose.” “It would avail me nothing to know your name and quality, Sir,” said Constance. “Henceforth we must be entire strangers to each other.” “Not so!—not so! sweet Constance!” cried the Prince. “Will you not suffer me to attend you to your home?” “I am too well known to need an escort,” she rejoined. “Nay, I am peremptory,” she added, seeing the Prince meant to accompany her. “You will not, I am sure, disoblige me. Come, Dorcas. Fare you well, Sir.”