and on his mouth.

Then she leaned her shoulder against a tree, and looking up saucily into
his face:

"Now, don't get mad!" she said.

"Mad--mad!" said Sir Guy, with a puzzled look. "An this be madness,
mistress, then is her Majesty's whole court a madhouse."

"Well, young man," Phoebe replied, with her prim New England manner,
"if you want to marry me, you'll have to come and live in a country
where they don't have queens, and you'll work in your shirt-sleeves like
an honest man. You might just's well understand that first as last."

The knight moved back a step, with an injured expression on his face.

"Nay, then," he said, "an thou mock me with uncouth phrases, Mary, I'd
best be going."

"Perhaps you'd better, Guy."

With a reproachful glance, but holding his head proudly, the young man
mounted his horse.

"He hath a noble air on horseback," Phoebe said to herself, and she
smiled.

The young man saw the smile and took courage.

He urged his horse forward to her side.

"Mary!" he exclaimed, tenderly.

"Fare thee well!" she replied, coolly, and turned her back.

He bit his lip, clinched his hand, and without another word, struck
fiercely with his spurs. With a snort of pain, the horse bounded
forward, and Phoebe found herself alone in the grove.

She gazed wistfully after the horseman and clasped her hands in silence
for a few moments. Then, at thought of the letter she knew he was soon
to write--the letter she had often seen in the carved box--she smiled
again and, patting her skirts, stepped forth merrily from the edge of
the grove.

"After all, 'twill teach the silly lad better manners!" she said.

Scarcely had she reached the highway again when she heard a man's voice
calling in hearty tones.

"Well met, Mistress Mary! I looked well to find you near--for I take it
'twas Sir Guy passed me a minute gone, spurring as 'twere a shame to
see."

She looked up and saw a stout, middle-aged countryman on horseback,
holding a folded paper in his hand.

"Oh, 'tis thou, Gregory!" she said, coolly. "Mend thy manners, man, and
keep thy place."

The man grinned.

"For my place, Mistress Mary," he said, "I doubt you know not where your
place be."

She looked up with a frown of angry surprise.

"Up here behind me on young Bess," he grinned. "See, here's your
father's letter, mistress."

She took the paper with one hand while with the other she patted the
soft nose of the mare, who was bending her