Robin Tremayne

"Well, what cheer?" asked Lady Lisle, quickly, even before her greeting: for the grandchild who lay ill in the chamber above was very dear to that lonely woman's heart.

"Madam, the child is dying."

"Alack, my poor lamb!" And Lady Lisle rose and went above to the little sufferer.

Dr Thorpe turned to Isoult. "What aileth the mother?" he asked her shortly.

"Frances?" she replied. "In good sooth, I wis not. I have not yet seen her. Doth aught ail her save sorrow?"

"The Lady Frances," he repeated. "Methinks somewhat else doth ail her. What it is essay you to discover."

He broke off rather abruptly as the door opened, and the lady under discussion entered the room. Taller than Lady Lisle or Philippa, she was more slender and fragile-looking than either. Hair of pale shining gold framed a face very white and fair, of that peculiar pure oval shape, and those serene, regular Grecian features, which marked t