princes that had of late so threatened our tranquillity, yet both of us
as ill in temper as could be conceived. Defend me from any such journey
again! But there is no likelihood of such a trial now, alas! Yes, there
was a pleasure in it; it was a battle, and, by my faith, it was close
drawn between us.

The chaise stopped at the Manor gates, and I rode up to the door of it,
cap in hand. Here was to be our parting.

"I thank you heartily, sir," said Barbara in a low voice, with a bow of
her head and a quick glance that would not dwell on my sullen face.

"My happiness has been to serve you, madame," I returned. "I grieve only
that my escort has been so irksome to you."

"No," said Barbara, and she said no more, but rolled up the avenue in
her chaise, leaving me to find my way alone to my mother's house.

I sat a few moments on my horse, watching her go. Then with an oath I
turned away. The sight of the gardener's cottage sent my thoughts back
to the old days when Cydaria came and caught my heart in her butterfly
net. It was just there, in the meadow by the avenue, that I had kissed
her. A kiss is a thing lightly given and sometimes lightly taken. It was
that kiss which Barbara had seen from the window, and great debate had
arisen on it. Lightly given, yet leading on to much that I did not see,
lightly taken, yet perhaps mother to some fancies that men would wonder
to find in Mistress Gwyn.

"I'm heartily glad to be here!" I cried, loosing the Vicar's hand and
flinging myself into the high arm-chair in the chimney corner.

My mother received this exclamation as a tribute of filial affection,
the Vicar treated it as an evidence of friendship, my sister Mary saw in
it a thanksgiving for deliverance from the perils and temptations of
London and the Court. Let them take it how they would; in truth it was
inspired in none of these ways, but was purely an expression of relief,
first at having brought Mistress Barbara safe to the Manor, in the
second place, at being quit of her society.

"I am very curious to learn, Simon," said the Vicar, drawing his chair
near mine, and laying his hand upon my knee, "what passed at Dover. For
it seems to me that there, if at any place in the world, the prophecy
which Betty Nasroth spoke concerning you----"

"You shall know all in good time, sir," I cried impatiently.

"Should find its fulfilment," ended the Vicar placidly.

"Are we not finished with that folly yet?" asked my mother.