In front of a cheerful fire burning briskly within the wide chimney-place sat a fair-haired boy. He was reclining at ease upon a deep-seated chair, and the firelight, playing upon his ruffled, snowy linen upper garment, his pallid, handsome, aquiline features, and long, curly, yellow hair, set before the young knight one of the prettiest pictures he had ever looked upon. Seated upon a stool beside the youth's knee was Lady Anna, who was engaged upon reading to him out of a manuscript. That which she was reading, Sir Richard thought, appeared to hold immeasurably less of interest for her distinguished looking auditor than the reader thereof, so greedily was his gaze devouring her. If ever love and devotion shone through the eyes from the heart, they were shining in that room and upon that woman then. The young knight became conscious of a feeling of guilt. It was as though he had profaned a consecrated temple. Since, however, an accident had brought him there, he regretted that he was unable to hear what Lady Anna was reading. But he remained, gathering different impressions of the scene by looking through the various colored panes, till she arose to leave. This sentence, then, spoken aloud and firmly from her station beside the youth's chair, came distinctly to his ears: "To you," she was saying, "there shall be no such person in all the world as Warbeck. You must forget even that there was ever such a name. Your future----" Her concluding remarks were lost to Sir Richard's hearing. Lady Anna then brushed aside the drapery and disappeared out of the room. For many minutes thereafter the youth's eyes remained fixed upon the swinging draperies, motionless and longingly, whilst down his pallid cheeks coursed many a bitter tear.