The article was Don Juan. His charm was twofold: first, he would one day be a rich man and a noble; and secondly, Blanche was in possession. Lucrece tried her utmost efforts to detach him from her sister, and to attach him to herself. And Don Juan proved himself to be her match, both in perseverance and in strategy. Blanche had not the faintest suspicion that anything of the sort had been going on. Don Juan himself had very quickly perceived the counterplot, and had found it a most amusing episode in the little drama with which he was beguiling the time during his forced stay in England. But nobody else saw either plot or counterplot, until one morning, when a low soft voice arrested Sir Thomas as he was passing out of the garden door. "Father, may I have a minute's speech of you?" "Ay so, Lucrece? I was about to take a turn or twain in the garden; come with me, lass." "So better, Father, for that I must say lacketh no other ears." "What now?" demanded Sir Thomas, laughing. "Wouldst have money for a new chain, or leave to go to a merry-making? Thou art welcome to either, my lass." "I thank you, Father," said Lucrece gravely, as they paced slowly down one of the straight, trim garden walks: "but not so,--my words are of sadder import." Sir Thomas turned and looked at her. Never until this moment, in all her four-and-twenty years, had his second daughter given him an iota of her confidence. "Nay, what now?" he said, in a perplexed tone. "I pray you, Father, be not wroth with me, for my reasons be strong, if I am so bold as to ask at you if you have yet received any order from the Queen's Majesty's Council, touching the disposing of Don John?" "Art thou turning states-woman, my lass? Nay, not I--not so much as a line." "Might I take on me, saving your presence, Father, to say so much as--I would you would yet again desire the same?" "Why, my lass, hath Don John offenced thee, that thou wouldst fain be rid of him? I would like him to tarry a while longer. What aileth thee?" "Would you like him to marry Blanche, Father?" "Blanche!--marry Blanche! What is come over thee, child? Marry Blanche!" Sir Thomas's tone was totally incredulous. He almost laughed in his contemptuous unbelief. "You crede it not, Father," said Lucrece's voice--always even, and soft, and low. "Yet it may be true, for all that." "In good sooth, my lass: so it may. But what cause hast, that thou shouldst harbour such a thought?" "Nought more than words overheard, Father,--and divers gifts seen-- and--" "Gifts! The child showed us none." "She would scantly show _you_, Father, a pair of beads of coral, with a cross of enamel thereto--" "Lucrece, dost thou _know_ this?" Her father's tone was very grave and stern now. "I do know it, of a surety. And if you suffer me, Father, to post you in a certain place that I wot of, behind the tapestry, you shall ere long know it too."