Charters assisted the fair unknown to alight, and led her to the door of the palace, with an air of confidence so perfect, that anyone might have supposed the house to be his own. Then she perceived that he wore the Windsor uniform, at that time the usual dress of all officers when on leave or on half-pay. Attracted, no doubt, by his air, which, though gentle and soft to her, was proud, dashing, and careless, she paused upon the threshold to thank him for his ready courage and escort--then, after a little pretty hesitation, added, that she could not think of permitting him to retire without joining her at supper. "I cannot but accept, madam," said he, kissing her right hand, from which she had coquettishly drawn the kid glove, as if, perhaps, to show its beauty. "You have no fear?" she whispered, with a soft side-glance in her clear blue eye, as she took his proffered arm. "None, madam; moreover, I am the foe of all restraint and prejudice." "Then you should not have become a soldier." "I can understand the restraints of the service, but I cannot abide the shallow and hackneyed usages of society." It seemed to Charters that her little hand pressed his arm rather palpably at that moment, and she whispered-- "If seen here--if known--" "By whom?" asked Charters, hastily. "You have no husband, I hope?" "No--nor lover--none here at least," replied the lady, laughing, as she threw off her white silk capuchin or hood, and then Charters saw quite enough of fair ringlets, and a neck and shoulders of great beauty and wondrous delicacy, to remove any scruples or fears which had occurred to him. He was in for an adventure now, and felt himself compelled to go through with it. A retreat was not to be thought of. "By what name am I to have the honour of addressing you?" asked Charters, in a half-whisper, as they sat down to supper, with the German valet in close attendance, and in a snug little room in that portion of the palace which had been built by the Lord Chancellor Finch. It was panelled and richly gilded, and from the walls one or two dark Holbeins looked grimly down upon their _tête-à-tête_. "Pray tell me, madam," he urged; "for I am dying of curiosity." "Call me Sophia," said the lady, looking down for a moment, and then bending her bright eyes on him smilingly; "and you?" she inquired. "I am Lieutenant Charters, of the 1st Dragoon Guards," replied the other. "Sophia?" he repeated, in a soft, low voice, as he mentally ran over all the names of the female members of the royal family, for he concluded that his new friend must be a princess at least. Thus some very wild ideas began to float through his busy brain; but at that moment he could remember no Sophia among all the ladies who were about the Court.