"I come?" she replied, "happen I might were I but to speak to the
chamberlain first."

"Speak to him, then, for mercy's sake, speak," replied the lover,
quickly. "Lend Doll your hood and shawl, none will know the difference
in the dark. Tell the porter to expect you. There, adieu; fail me not,
good Lettice," and without leaving her time to make reply he
rushed hastily out of the room, and left her alone to carry out his
instructions as best she could.

Dusk was rapidly deepening into darkness when John Manners stole out
of his humble abode to wend his way to the old trysting place, whither
he had been so frequently of late. His progress was watched by a pair
of eager, jealous eyes, as their owner silently but surely dogged
his every footstep; and when the tree was reached at last Manners lay
wearily down at its foot, fully resolved not to depart from thence
until he had brought matters to a crisis. At the same moment the
figure of a young man glided stealthily into the cover of a bush
within a few yards of where the other lay. Manners was not aware of
the fact; he had neither seen nor heard his pursuer, and in happy
ignorance of the circumstance he awaited Dorothy's appearance.

The night was chilly, for the snow had just departed from off the
ground, and the fast gathering leaden clouds threatened to quickly
cover it over again; but, buoyed up with hope and excitement, Manners
heeded it not. Quietly, but not calmly, he lay, impatiently awaiting
the coming of his love.

At last she came, but she approached so silently that her lover was
not aware of her presence until she spoke.