Lady Pembroke was now watching another couple who were passing on to the ballroom. The Earl of Leicester had often been attracted by the beauty of Lucy Forrester, and had now done her the honour of begging her to dance with him. But Lucy shrank from the open admiration and flattery of this brilliant courtier. While others were looking on her with envy, jealous of the distinction the Earl had conferred upon her, Lucy hoped she might meet her mistress, and excuse herself from the dance by saying her presence was needed by Lady Pembroke. But those who sat behind the screen were unseen, and Lucy did not know how near she was to her mistress. Presently George Ratcliffe came towards the screen with gigantic strides, his brow dark, biting his lower lip, while his hand rested on the hilt of his short sword. 'Pardon me, dear mother,' Lady Pembroke said, as she rose from her seat, 'I will return anon,' and then she stepped up to George, saying,-- 'Have you danced this evening, Master Forrester? Come with me, and let me find you a partner.' George blushed crimson at the honour done him; he was no courtier, and the thanks he would fain have spoken died on his lips. 'I have been desiring to speak with you,' Lady Pembroke said; 'I would fain know if aught has been heard of Mistress Gifford.' 'Nay, Madam, not of late. She was in good health of body last summer, though sore at heart; so my brother said.' 'No trace of her boy yet, I grieve to hear,' Lady Pembroke exclaimed. 'If he is to be tracked out, your good brother will do it. You do not follow Sir Philip to the Netherlands, I think.' 'Nay, Madam, I stay at home, my mother is sick, and the care of the place falls on me heavily enow.' When Lucy saw Lady Pembroke she disengaged her hand from the Earl's, and said,-- 'May it please you, my Lord, to permit me to go to my Lady, she may be seeking me.' 'Now why so cruel?' the Earl rejoined; 'why cannot you give me one smile? Do not reserve all your favour for yonder young country-bred giant, whom my sister has chosen to patronise.' But Lucy was resolute, her colour rose at this reference to George, and, with a profound curtsey, she left the Earl's side and joined the Countess. 'Ah, Lucy, you are in time to give Master George your hand for a Saraband, and I will find my uncle, the Earl, another partner, even myself,' she added, laughing. It was all done so quickly that George could scarcely realise what had happened. He had been faithful to his first love, and never for a moment faltered in his allegiance.