"Choose for thine own happiness, Doll," he whispered, breaking again
another painful spell of silence.

"I cannot leave my father so--and Margaret," she added, after a pause.

"Margaret will leave thee soon enough," replied her lover, "and Sir
George would wed thee to Sir Edward Stanley in a month. Thou wilt have
to leave them soon, anyhow--why not with me? I would brave the world
for thy sake."

"I know it," she replied, "but I cannot say 'yes.' Do not persuade me,
I will give thee an answer in a little while.

"I have made arrangements," Manners answered. "Everything is ready. We
shall go to Nottingham; all our plans are laid ready for the wedding."

"I cannot refuse thee, John," whispered Dorothy, as she dried her
tears, "but I cannot consent--not yet, at least. Lettice shall bring
thee word."

"So be it, then," he said. "Kiss me, Doll, it may be for the last
time; an you decide to stay, I shall go to the wars again."

"Hush, your words are over loud, John. If you go, I die. Listen!"

Manners needed not the injunction, for someone was unmistakably
rushing towards them. He turned, and faced the intruder.

"Hold!" he cried, "or you shall rue it. Stand back," he added, as the
figure of a man ran towards Dorothy.