The teaching was exquisite; but when the lesson for the day was over, and he was alone, he sat with one whom he despised.

The learning was exquisite; it was the sweetest song, but she knew not its name, and the words were in a strange tongue.

She was Audrey, that she knew; and he,--he was the plumed knight, who, for the lack of a better listener, told her gracious tales of love, showed her how warm and beautiful was this world that she sometimes thought so sad, sang to her sweet lines that poets had made.

Over and through all she thought she read the name of the princess.

She had heard him say that with the breaking of the heat he should go to Westover, and one day, early in summer, he had shown her the miniature of Evelyn Byrd.