I have besought thee to seek firmness for his sake; but thou didst but tell me, Isabella, Isabella, thou canst not feel as I do, he is naught to thee but thy king; to me, what is he not?
king, hero, husband--all, my only all; and I have desisted, lady, for I deemed my words offended, my counsel unadvised, and looked on but as cold and foolish." "Nay, did I say all this to thee?
Isabella, forgive me, for indeed, indeed, I knew it not," replied Margaret, her previous fretfulness subsiding into a softened and less painful burst of weeping.

"He is in truth, my all, my heart's dearest, best, and without him, oh! what am I?
even a cipher, a reed, useless to myself, to my child, as to all others.
I am not like thee, Isabella--would, would I were; I should be more worthy of my Robert's love, and consequently dearer to his heart.

I can be but a burden to him now." "Hush, hush! would he not chide thee for such words, my Margaret ?" returned the countess, soothingly, and in a much lower voice, speaking as she would to a younger sister.

"Had he not deemed thee worthy, would he have made thee his?
oh, no, believe it not; he is too true, too honorable for such thought." "He loved me, because he saw I loved," whispered the queen, perceiving that her companions had left her well-nigh alone with the countess, and following, as was her custom, every impulse of her fond but ill-regulated heart.

"I had not even strength to conceal that--that truth which any other would have died rather than reveal.