"Poor John. He tells me so. I understand all now."

"That will disguise him better than aught else, he said."

"Perhaps it is so, but 'tis a cruel disguise," said Dorothy
sympathetically. "Did he give thee any word for me?"

"Naught, save that I was to tell thee he would write anon, as he could
not see thee. He will hide the letters in the tree that Father Philip
fell against; there is a hole in it, and he has shown it me. But you
will see him soon; he wears a peacock's feather in his cap."

"I should know him well enough without a sign," said Dorothy
decisively, "and he were best without it, for it might lead him into
peril."

"Father will send him with the logs," pursued Lettice. "He came but
yesternight."

"Hush, Lettice, is not that Lady Maude coming?"

"Gramercy no, I hope not, or it might fare ill with us," said the
maid, "but hide the letter, for the love of heaven do," she added
quickly as the footsteps quickly approached.

Quick as thought Doll transferred the missive into her pocket, and,
with a guilty look which she vainly strove to hide, she turned to
brave Lady Vernon.