She loved Cymlin, but she feared to marry him. She feared the reproaches of Rupert, who, though he made no effort to consummate their long engagement, was furiously indignant if she spoke of ending it. Then, also, she had fears connected with Cymlin. When very young, he had begun to save money in order to make himself a possible suitor for Matilda’s hand. His whole career in the army had looked steadily to this end. In the Irish campaign he had been exceedingly fortunate; he had bought and sold estates, and exchanged prisoners for specie, and in other ways so manipulated his chances that in every case they had left behind a golden residuum. This money had been again invested in English ventures, and in all cases he had been signally fortunate. Jane had told Matilda two years previously that Cymlin was richer than his father, and she might have said more than this and been within the truth. But in this rapid accumulation of wealth, Cymlin had developed the love of wealth. He was ever on the alert for financial opportunities, and, though generous wherever Matilda was concerned, not to be trifled with if his interests were in danger. So Matilda knew that if she would carry out her intention of making over de Wick house and land to Stephen, it must be done before she married Cymlin. Yet if she surrendered it to Stephen under present circumstances, everything would go, in some way or other, to the needy, beggarly Stuart Court. If Cromwell were only out of the way! If King Charles were only on the throne! he would have all England to tax and tithe, and Stephen would not need to give away the home and lands of his forefathers. She was fretfully thinking over this dilemma in its relation to a new plot against Cromwell’s life, when Jane Swaffham visited her one morning in February of 1658. Jane’s smiling serenity aggravated her restless temper. "Does nothing on earth ever give you an unhappy thought, Jane?" she asked. "You look as if you dwelt in Paradise." "Indeed, I am very unhappy this morning, Matilda. Mr. Rich is thought to be dying." "And, pray heaven, _who is_ Mr. Rich?" "You know who Mr. Rich is, perfectly. Why do you ask such a foolish question? Lady Frances is broken-hearted. I am going now to Whitehall. The Cromwells are in the greatest distress." "On my word, they have kept others in the greatest distress for many years! I am not sorry for them." "I only called to tell you there is another plot." "I have nothing to do with it." "Some one you know may be in danger." "Stephen is at Cologne. If you are thinking of Stephen, thank you. I will write and tell him to keep good hope in his heart, that Jane Swaffham remembers him."