breathless suspense. "She loves another, then!"

"No, my father! Her heart is yet like a sheet of white paper: no
single name is yet inscribed there."

"Then we must write a name there, and this name must drive her to
the scaffold, or into banishment," said her father impetuously. "It
is your business, my child, to take a steel graver, and in some way
write a name in Catharine's heart so deep and indelibly, that the
king may some day read it there."




CHAPTER VIII.

FATHER AND DAUGHTER.


Both now kept silent for a long time. Lord Douglas had leaned back
on the ottoman, and, respiring heavily, seemed to breathe a little
from the exertion of his long discourse. But while he rested, his
large, piercing eyes were constantly turned to Jane, who, leaning
back on the cushion, was staring thoughtfully into the empty air,
and seemed to be entirely forgetful of her father's presence.

A cunning smile played for a moment over the countenance of the earl
as he observed her, but it quickly disappeared, and now deep folds
of care gathered on his brow. As he saw that Lady Jane was plunging
deeper and deeper into reverie, he at length laid his hand on her