Once within the bounds of his own woods he was enwrapped in the gracious loveliness of the trees—the quiet of the frost-bound earth, and had almost reached the house before he met anyone; then, round the turn of the long main avenue came a lady, very gracefully riding a white horse. The Prince gave her a quick glance, touched his beaver, and was passing with no slacking of his pace, but she drew rein and said in a faint voice— "Your Highness——" with a little gesture that seemed to entreat him to stay. He turned his horse instantly. "I am leaving The Hague, sir," she said, speaking English, which was obviously her native tongue. "I have the permission of Her Highness to go see my sister who is sadly worse." She was young, very slender, and carried herself with a certain air of fire and pride, a certain poise of dignity and animation charming to behold; her features were ordinary, but vivacious and intelligent; there was a certain set or cast in her brown eyes not unattractive, and her hair, in a hundred gleaming hues of gold, red, and deep honey colour, hung in thick curls on to her riding coat, cut like a man’s and thickly embroidered with gold. "Madame Bentinck is worse?" repeated William in a quick distress. "They did say so. I felt I should go." "I am grieved a thousand times," he added, "and for M. Bentinck"—he spoke with real feeling, but with that touch of constraint (unlike his usual reserve) which marked her manner to him—"and for you, Madam." Miss Villiers hesitated a second, then said abruptly— "I did not think to meet you. I shall not see you again before you sail. Take my poor wishes with you." "I have been so bold as to feel sure of them," he answered gravely. She was silent, but he did not ride on, but sat with slack reins looking at her, half in the thick autumn sunlight, half in the shade of the close tree trunks, for the sun was sinking. They had not spoken to each other alone for years; but when she had first come to The Hague with his wife there had been a swift attraction between them, which, for all her discretion and his reserve, had not failed to be seized upon by the English agents to work discords in the Court of The Hague. It was not so long ago that the Princess’s Chaplain, Dr. Covell, and Miss Trelawney, had been dismissed by Mary for inventing and spreading this kind of gossip for the benefit of those spies of the English Court who were ever endeavouring to estrange the Prince from his wife.