Evening star., 1908-01-19
CHAPTER XIV.
The Hand Of Fate.
Ursula had. had a good cry.

The Hand Of Fate.
Ursula had. had a good cry.
She was a mere girl. only just out OF
her teens: she had been hideously disap-
pointed and had given way to paroxysn
of tears, just like child that has been
cheated of its toys.
AS far as her actual feelings for Wessex
were concerned, she scarcely troubled 10
analyze them AS a tiny child she had
worshiped the gallant boy who had al
ways been pointed out to her as the pat
tern of what an English nobleman should
be. and moreover as the future husband
who was to rule over her destiny
No doubt that the Earl of Truro. lying
on his death bed, had but little real per-
ception Of what he was doing when he
forced his daughter to swear that she
would marry Wessex or remain single to
the end of her days.
But Ursula was thirteen years old then,
and held an oath to her father to be the
most sacred thing in the world. . She had
not seen Wessex for some years, but her
girlish imagination had always endowed
him with all those chivalrous attributes
which her own father, whom she idolized,
had already ascribed to him.
Love? Well! it scarce could be called
that as yet. In spite OF her score OF
years, Ursula had remained a child In
thought, in feelings, in temperament She
had spent the last six or seven years
within the precincts of old Truro Castle,
watched over by her late fathers faithful
servants. who brought her up and wor-
shipped her, taught her what they knew
and obeyed her implicitly.
Her one idea. however. had remained
that of a marriage with Wessex. by
right and precedence she could claim a
place in the Queen of England's imme-
date encourage. AS soon as she. was
old enough she asserted this claim and
journeyed to Esher In charge OF an old
aunt. who had supervised her education
since her fathers death.
Since then her one desire had been to
meet the man to whom she had pledged
her troth. She had seen him, oh! scores
OF times, since the day, on which he came
on winning his love-. had ,resoiutely kept
him away from the beautiful girl who.
she instinctively felt. would prove
formidable rival
grace partly in { order to please. his
friends. even IL only half-believing that
his influence would prevent Mary Tudor
from contracting am allen marriage, had
been in constant attendance on the queen.
Ursula, on the other hand. had been
relegated into the background. She knew
this well and chafed at the restraint.
Something seemed to tell her that II she
could but see the duke he would easily
realize that 1t would not be very hard to,
fulfill the old earl's promise. She knew
that she was beautiful, her own mirror
and the admiration Of the court gallants
had already told her that. and at the
same time she felt within herself a mag
netisrh which must inevitably draw him
toward her.
But time was speeding on. Ursula's
quick intelligence had very soon grasped
the threads of the present political situa-
ton. while Mary Tudor. on the other
hand, made no secret of her love for
Wessex The young girl was well aware
of the many intrfgues which were being
Matched round the personality of the man
whom she looked upon as her afianced
husband. and guessed how much these
were aided by the enamored queen.
His emnence the cardinal. the Due de
Noailles, Scheyfne, Don Miguel de Suarez
all were seeking to obtain a definite
promise from Mary. The English faction,
on the other hand. had hoped to force the
duke into marriage which was obvious
~ distasteful to him.
Ursula, in the midst Of these contending
parties, was, nevertheless, determined to
gain her end. Too unsophisticated to
attempt a serious intrigue she relied on
cess. Her little plot to bring his grace
to her presence that afternoon had fall
ed. probably owing to the queens keen
acumen; and the young girl. for the first
time since her arrival at court, felt
genuinely mortified and not a little
despairing of ultimate triumph.
The duke. evidently, had no desire to
meet her. or he would have accomplished
that end somehow. There was not much
that his grace wished that did not sooner
later IN
Obviously, for the moment. he was glad
enough to remain free of those bonds
which truly were none of his making.
Chivalry alone might tempt him to fulfill
Lord Truro's dying wishes. for the late
earl and the dukes own father had been
the closest of friends. Ursula's pride.
however, would not allow her to appeal
to that chivalry; what she wanted was to
gain his love.
Out Of her childish admiration for the
boy had grown a kind of poetic interest
in the man, more than fostered by the
great popularity enjoyed by Wessex. and
the praises of his personality sung on
every side. Ursula was still too young to
be in love with aught else save with love
itself, with her own imaginative fancy.
her own conception Of what her future
husband should be.
He should be good to look at--like Wes-
sex! High-born and graciOus-like Wes-
sex! A knight among men, witty and ac-
complished--like Wessex!
Holy Virgin! let me have him for mine
own!" was her constant childish prayer.
The girl was not yet woman,
Thus muSing and meditating she
strolled out into the garden. singing as
she went All the maids Of honor had
been hidden to wait on her majesty in
the audience chamber save Lady Ursula
Glynde and Miss Margaret Cobllam,
whose services would not be required.
The Duchess of Lincoln. shrewdly
guessing from this summons that his
grace Of Wessex was in the queens
company. had given the two young
ladies leave to wander whittier they
pleased
Lady Margaret had pleaded head
ache and curled herself up in window
embrasure with the express intention Of
doing nothing at all: but Ursula, with
a burning desire for freedom and a
longing for flowers, birds and sunshine,
had wandered out into the open.
A parterre of marguerites was laid
out close to the terrace. incoming.
dreaming singing. she had picked
bunch of these and was mechanically
plucking their snow-white petals one
by one.
Did she guess what a dainty picture
she made as she stood for one moment
beside the pond. her shimmerng gown
of delicate white glistening against a
background of dark green yews her
fair hair shining like gold beneath the
soft rays of the October sun? Her sweet
face was bent down, earnestly intent
upon consulting the flowery oracle:
delicate shadow, that soft, pearly gray