A proud, triumphant smile played about his lips, and a joyful expression of victory flashed from his eyes.
"Triumph! triumph! we shall conquer!" said he, as he now entered his daughter's chamber and extended his hand to Lady Jane.

"Jane, we have at last reached the goal, and you will soon be King Henry's seventh wife!" A rosy shimmer flitted for a moment over Lady Jane's pale, colorless cheeks, and a smile played about her lips--a smile, however, which was more sad than loud sobs could have been.
"Ah," said she in a low tone, "I fear only that my poor head will be too weak to wear a royal crown." "Courage, courage, Jane, lift up your head, and be again my strong, proud daughter!" "But, I suffer so much, my father," sighed she.

"It is hell that burns within me!" "But soon, Jane, soon you shall feel again the bliss of heaven! I had forbidden you to grant Henry Howard a meeting, because it might bring us danger.

Well, then, now your tender heart shall be satisfied.

To-night you shall embrace your lover again!" "Oh," murmured she, "he will again call me his Geraldine, and it will not be I, but the queen, that he kisses in my arms!" "Yes, to-day, it will still be so, Jane; but I swear to you that to-day is the last time that you are obliged to receive him thus." "The last time that I see him ?" asked Jane, with an expression of alarm.
"No, Jane, only the last time that Henry Howard loves in you the queen, and not you yourself." "Oh, he will never love me!" murmured she, sadly.
"He will love you, for you it will be that will save his life.