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THE OLD WOMAN TALKS OF SORROWS, THE YOUNG WOMAN DREAMS.
OF LOVE; THE COURTIER FLIES FROM PRESENT POWER TO REMEMBRANCES OF PAST HOPES, AND THE WORLD-BETTERED OPENS UTOPIA, WITH A VIEW OF THE GIBBET FOR THE SILLY SAGE HE HAS SEDUCED INTO HIS SCHEMES,--SO, EVER AND EVERMORE, RUNS THE WORLD AWAY! The old lady looked up from her embroidery-frame, as Sibyll sat musing on a stool before her; she scanned the maiden with a wistful and somewhat melancholy eye.
"Fair girl," she said, breaking a silence that had lasted for some moments, "it seems to me that I have seen thy face before.

Wert thou never in Queen Margaret's court ?" "In childhood, yes, lady." "Do you not remember me, the dame of Longueville ?" Sibyll started in surprise, and gazed long before she recognized the features of her hostess; for the dame of Longueville had been still, when Sibyll was a child at the court, renowned for matronly beauty, and the change was greater than the lapse of years could account for.

The lady smiled sadly: "Yes, you marvel to see me thus bent and faded.

Maiden, I lost my husband at the battle of St.Alban's, and my three sons in the field of Towton.