When she entered the parlour, where as yet no candles had been
lighted, she saw and knew nothing till she found herself clasped to
a bosom heaving with emotion.
'Forgive me, Dorothy,' sobbed lady Margaret. 'I have done thee
wrong. But thou wilt love me yet again--wilt thou not, Dorothy?'
'Madam! madam !' was all Dorothy could answer, kissing her hands.
Lady Margaret led her to her husband, who kissed her on the
forehead, and seated her betwixt himself and his wife; and for a
space there was silence. Then at last said Dorothy:
'Tell me, madam, how is it that I find myself once more in the
garden of your favour? How know you that I am not all unworthy
thereof?'
'My lord tells me so,' returned lady Margaret simply.
'And whence doth my lord know it?' asked Dorothy, turning to lord
Herbert.
''An' thou be not satisfied of thine own innocence, Dorothy, I will
ask thee a few questions. Listen to thine answers, and judge. How
came the young puritan into the castle that night? But stay: we must
have candles, for how can I, the judge, or my lady, the jury, see
into the heart of the prisoner save through the window of her face?'
Dorothy laughed--her first laugh since the evil fog had ascended and
swathed her.
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