"I had not thought to be mistress of the Hall for many years," said she, her lips a-tremble. "But yesterday, at this hour, he was living: and, today, in this hour, the heavy importunities of strange new duties are already crushing me.... I count on you, Jack." I made no answer. "May we not count on you?" she said. "Sir John and I expect it." As I stood silent there in the breezy sunshine by the porch, there came across the grass Billy Alexander, who is Lord Stirling, a man much older than I, but who seemed young enough; and made his reverence to Lady Johnson, kissing the hand which I very gently released. "Oh, Billy," says she, the tears starting again, "why should death take him at such a time, when God's wrath darkens all the world?" "God's convenience is not always ours," he replied, looking at me sideways, with a certain curiosity which I understood if Lady Johnson did not. She turned and gazed out across the sunny grass where, beyond the hedge fence, the primeval forest loomed like a dark cloud along the sky, far as the eye could see. "Well," says she, half to herself, "the storm is bound to break, now. And we women of County Tryon may need your swords, gentlemen, before snow flies." Lord Stirling stole another look at me. He knew as well as I how loosely in their scabbards lay our two swords. He knew, also, as well as I, in which cause would flash the swords of the landed gentry of County Tryon. And he knew, too, that his blade as well as mine must, one day, be unsheathed against them and against the stupid King they served. Something of this Lady Johnson had long since suspected, I think; but Billy Alexander, for all his years, was a childhood friend; and I, too, a friend, although more recent. She looked at my Lord Stirling with that troubled sweetness I have seen so often in her face, alas! and she said in a low voice: "It would be unthinkable that Lord Stirling's sword could lay a-rusting when the Boston rabble break clear out o' bounds." She turned to me, touched my arm confidingly, child that she seemed and was, God help her. "A Stormont," she said, "should never entertain any doubts. And so I count on you, Lord Stormont, as I count upon my Lord Stirling----" "I am not Lord Stormont," said I, striving to force a smile at the old and tiresome contention. "Lord Stormont is the King's Ambassador in Paris--if it please you to recollect----" "You are as surely Viscount Stormont as is Billy Alexander, here, Lord Stirling--and as I am Lady Johnson," she said earnestly. "What do you care if your titles be disputed by a doddering committee on privileges in the House of Lords? What difference does it make if usurpers wear your honours as long as you know these same stolen titles are your own?" "A pair o' peers _sans_ peerage," quoth Billy Alexander, with that boyish grin I loved to see. "I care nothing," said I, still smiling, "but Billy Alexander does--pardon!--my Lord Stirling, I should say."