After which, apparently covered with confusion at her own words, the fair Diana fitted away before' the royal vision ike a rose-petal blown by the wind. At least, 30 it seemed to the serious young man who. a few minutes ago, had been absorived thought over the destiny of Eng-
Sate or not, in defiance of footpads or other enemies, the King rode in Kensington Fields again the very next day. It might have been chance, of course, but Sarah, overwhelmed with confusion and. sure prise, met the solitary rider again in the self-same spot. She was more silent and shy than she had been on the first occasion, but no less adorn able for all that—and, being silent, the young King spoke all' the more. The next day very nearly turned out blank and dreary for the royal rider. He stayed long in the lane, but there was no sign of Diana or her attendant hound. The King, unaccustomed to being thwarted, impatient, sullen and anxious, rode up down the lane, oblivious of time and of the Council of Ministers, convened by himself, who were already awalting the royal presence.
Hay-making Time was hay-making time, and the sweet scent of clover drying in the sun came to the young man's nostrils and set his blood aflame. He was turning away for the last time when suddenly, behind the woodbine-tangled hedge, he caught" sight of something blue. He looked again, and saw Sarah' busily turning over the hay with a pitch-fork adorned with blue ribbons. While she worked, Sarah hummed a plaintive little tune softly to herself. What the King did not know was that from under the brim of a shady hat, a pair of roguish blue eyes had watched for the past half hour his every movement.
In an instant he had swung himself to the ground, vaulted over the hedge, and stood before his Diana mute, confused and ardent. What passed between them in that blissful hour, while Counsellors still waited, history does not tell. But afterwards day after day, under the summer sky manded to attend the royal wedding a bridesmaid, for Ministers must needs be thorough and show no The story runs that seventeen-year old Sarah broke down completely during the magnificent wedding cere-many. As for the King, he stared stonily before him. The organ thundered, and bells pealed out on a gay morning to drown one little girl's unseemly sorrow.
year later Sarah married Siz Charles Bunbury a kindly, paternal soul old enough to be her father. The marriage was not a happy. one, and Sir Charles divorced his young wife a year or two afterwards, She was a reigning beauty by " then, sought after and admired by th wits and a favourite subject for rear painters of the day.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.