On one of these occasions, in the first
of the twilight, she was leaning over one of the battlements looking
down upon the moat and its white and yellow blossoms and great green
leaves, and feeling very desolate. Her young life seemed to have
crumbled down upon her and crushed her heart, and all for one gentle
imprudence.
'Oh my mother!' she murmured,--'an' thou couldst hear me, thou
wouldst help me an' thou couldst. Thy poor Dorothy is sorely sad and
forsaken, and she knows no way of escape. Oh my mother, hear me!'
As she spoke, she looked away from the moat to the sky, and spread
out her arms in the pain of her petition.
There was a step behind her.
'What! what! My little protestant praying to the naughty saints!
That will never do.'
Dorothy had turned with a great start, and stood speechless and
trembling before lord Herbert.
'My poor child!' he said, holding out both his hands, and taking
those which Dorothy did not offer--'did I startle thee then so much?
I am truly sorry.
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