company for a little while, and in a short time the sound of eager
conversation filled the room.

"Come, now, 'tis time," broke in the priest, after a long pause. "Sir
George will be wondering at the long delay."

"A minute more, Nicholas, a minute more," was the excited reply.

"Now, Doll," Manners appealed, "I have told you all. What say you?"

"Not yet, John, not yet," she demurely replied.

"O, say not so, Doll," he pleaded, "they will never relent."

"I cannot do it, John; indeed, I cannot. I would refuse thee naught
save this, but this I must refuse."

Her lover looked at her sadly. "Then we may not see each other again,"
he said, "till thou art Lady Stanley."

"Nay, nay," she replied quickly, "I shall never be that. My heart
would break first. I shall never be that."

"Or I may be discovered, and--and then, Doll, what?"

"O don't, don't say that," she cried. "You tear my heart. I cannot do
it, John; at least--at least not now."

"Mistress Dorothy, we must go now. I cannot, I dare not tarry any
longer," said the priest as he came up and stood beside the lovers.