me than either the past or the future. I care not what comes hereafter. I
want him now. Ah, Malcolm, pity my shame."

She covered her face with her hands, and after a moment continued: "I am
not myself. I belong not to myself. But if I knew that he also suffers, I
do believe my pain would be less."

"I think you may set your heart at rest upon that point," I answered. "He,
doubtless, also suffers."

"I hope so," she responded, unconscious of the selfish wish she had
expressed. "If he does not, I know not what will be my fate."

I saw that I had made a mistake in assuring her that John also suffered,
and I determined to correct it later on, if possible.

Dorothy was silent, and I said, "You have not told me about the golden
heart."

"I will tell you," she answered. "We rode for two hours or more, and
talked of the weather and the scenery, until there was nothing more to be
said concerning either. Then Sir John told me of the court in London,
where he has always lived, and of the queen whose hair, he says, is red,
but not at all like mine. I wondered if he would speak of the beauty of my
hair, but he did not. He only looked at it. Then he told me about the
Scottish queen whom he once met when he was on an embassy to Edinburgh. He
described her marvellous beauty, and I believe he sympathizes with her
cause--that is, with her cause in Scotland. He says she has no good cause
in England. He is true to our queen. Well--well he talked so interestingly
that I could have listened a whole month--yes, all my life."