“I know not how she may be bred up,” he said doubtfully; “she was a plain wench when last I saw her, but that is five years since. Well, well, she must even come and follow this wretched man’s funeral, and then you and she will doubtless find a way to settle it to your own liking.” So it was that Mistress Betty came to Mohun’s Ottery; a tall, slim girl in a black gown and with a calm look on her young face that startled her uncle, so unlike was it to anything in youth. Sir Thomas was carried from the home of his ancestors with all due state and ceremony, but there was no pretence of mourning, and the well-born rogue was laid in his narrow house without a tear. After it was over, the affairs of the orphan were soon disposed of by Sir William. Finding that she was dowerless, save for a beauty of which her childhood had given no promise, he kept her under his own roof, and she lived there until other events took her to far other scenes. She was then in her girlhood, growing every day in beauty of a strong and striking type, and carrying her head like a queen rather than a penniless maid living in dependence at her uncle’s house. Her form, though slender, gave the promise of a richer outline, and as she grew happier in her new home, a color came into her cheeks, a sparkle to her eyes that made her lovely in the sight of many who marvelled that so plain a child should grow so beautiful. Lady Carew fretted much, however, at the will that Mistress Betty showed, which brooked no crossing, and the tongue that could, in anger, cut like a whip, for this beauty was no saint. There was, however, that in her lordly nature which scorned all meanness and baseness, a nobility that shone through the imperfections of her temper like a star, and looked out through the windows of her great eyes,--eyes that were clear brown, heavily fringed with black lashes, and set beneath two straight, black brows. Her mouth closed, perhaps, a trifle too firmly for so young a woman, and her chin was clear cut as a man’s, but her voice was sweet and low, and there was witchery in her smile. CHAPTER II A MESSENGER FROM MY LORD PRIVY SEAL