"I' faith, Cuthbert, I will gladly tell thee all there is to know,
it is not much; and I like thee well, and trust thee to boot. Nor
is it such a mighty secret that Culverhouse would fain make me his
bride, and that I would give myself to him tomorrow an I might. I
am not ashamed of loving him," cried the girl, her dark eyes
flashing as she threw hack her dainty head with a gesture of pride
and womanly dignity, "for he is a right noble gentleman, and worthy
of any maiden's love; but whether we shall ever be united in
wedlock--ah, that is a vastly different matter!" and she heaved a
quick little sigh.

"But wherefore not?" asked Cuthbert quickly. "Where could he find a
more beauteous or worthy wife?"

Kate gave him a little bow of acknowledgment for his compliment,
but her face was slightly more grave as she made answer:

"It is not, alack! a question of dislike to me. Were that all, I
might hope to win the favour of stern hearts, and bring the matter
to a happy conclusion. But no; mine uncle of Andover likes me well.
He openly says as much, and he has been a kind friend to us. And
yet I may not wed his son; and his kindness makes it the harder for
Culverhouse to do aught to vex or defy him."

"But why may you not?" asked Cuthbert quickly.

"There be more reasons than one, but I will tell you all in brief.
My own father mislikes the thought of the match, for that we are
cousins of the first degree; and though we Trevlyns of the older
branch no longer call ourselves the servants and followers of Rome,