Gabriel did not reply, but a happier light dawned in his eyes, and as he gazed into the glowing depths of the wood fire he saw visions of a future that should make up for all the present suffering and separation. CHAPTER XXVIII. “True love’s the gift which God has given To man alone beneath the heaven; It is not fantasy’s hot fire, Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly. It liveth not in fierce desire, With dead desire it doth not die; It is the secret sympathy, The silver link, the silken tie, Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, In body and in soul can bind.” --_Lay of the Last Minstrel_. Meanwhile, in the withdrawing-room, Humphrey Neal was asking Madam Harford to promote his suit with Helena. “I will do what little I can for you, sir,” said the old lady, who liked him and desired to see him wedded to her goddaughter. “But first, I would bid you make sure of the maid’s own feeling in the matter. Then, if she approves, you had best seek out her guardian, Dr. Twisse, the Rector of Newbury.” “Oh! is her guardian a parson?” said Humphrey with a groan. “I shall never find favour in his eyes; he’ll be asking what view I take of the Divine right of kings to break the law.” “No; you will find him a liberal man, and a kind-hearted kinsman to my god-daughter. Once assured that the marriage is for his niece’s happiness, he will not, I think, trouble you with arguings. Why should you not speak to Helena now, and ride to Newbury to-morrow with my son. He could then say a word on your behalf.” Humphrey caught at this idea, and asked where he should be likely to find Helena. “I left her but now in the south parlour,” said Madam Harford. And with a smile she watched the hasty way in which Humphrey at once quitted the room, eager to bring his wooing to a happy close. “He is a tolerably well-assured lover,” thought the old lady. “I do trust Nell will not prove uncertain of her own mind at the last minute.” Humphrey found the south parlour lighted only by the glow from the fire; there was no sound but the soft whirr of the spinning-wheel, and in the dim room the flax on the distaff and little Nell’s yellow curls shone out brightly. “You should keep blindman’s holiday,” he said, drawing up a stool and seating himself beside her. “Pray idle for a few minutes, and talk with me.” “Why, sir, can I not talk and spin at the same time?” said Helena, gaily. “No, not when the talk is of a serious matter.” “Is anything wrong? Is Mr. Harford worse?” asked Helena, in alarm. “Oh, no; he is much better, and already planning when to rejoin Sir William Waller. You think of him, but never trouble your head about me.” His sigh was too theatrical to deceive her. She laughed merrily.