s sit in my
seat?" Said Agatha: "O, the tale is long to tell; but I would confuse
that young man's memory of thee somewhat, if his eyes fell on thee at
all when ye met e'en now, which is to be doubted."

The Lady started up in sudden wrath, and cried out: "She had best not
be too like to me then, and strive to draw his eyes to her, or I will
have her marked for diversity betwixt us. Take heed, take heed!"

Agatha looked softly on her and said: "My Lady. Ye fair-skinned,
open-faced women should look to it not to show yourselves angry before
men-folk. For open wrath marreth your beauty sorely. Leave scowls and
fury to the dark-browed, who can use them without wrying their faces
like a three months' baby with the colic. Now that is my last rede as
now. For methinks I can hear the trumpets blowing for the arraying of
the tourney. Wherefore I must go to see to matters, while thou hast
but to be quiet. And to-night make much of my Lord, and bid him see me
to-morrow, and give heed to what I shall say to him. But if I meet him
without, now, as is most like, I shall bid him in to thee, that thou
mayst tell him of Joyce, and her sitting in thy seat. Otherwise I will
tell him as soon as he is set down in his place. Sooth to say, he is
little like to quarrel with either thee or me for setting a fair woman
other than thee by his side."

Therewith she lifted the tent lap and went out, stepping daintily, and
her slender body swaying like a willow branch, and came at once face to
face with the Lord of Utterbol, and bowed low and humbly before him,
though her face, unseen of him, smiled mockingly. The Lord looked on
her greedily, and let his hand and arm go over her shoulder, and about
her side, and he drew her to him, and kissed her, and said: "What,
Agatha! and why art thou not bringing forth thy mistress to us?" She
raised her face to him, and murmured softly, as one afraid, but with a
wheedling smile on her face and in her eyes: "Nay, my Lord, she will
abide within to-day, for she is ill at ease; if your grace goeth in,
she will tell thee what she will have."

"Agatha," quoth he, "I will hear her, and I will do her pleasure if
thou ask me so to do." Then Agatha cast down her eyes, and her speech
was so low and sweet that it was as the cooing of a dove, as she said:
"O my Lord, what is this word of thine?"

He kissed her again, and said: "Well, well, but dost thou ask it?" "O
yea, yea, my Lord," said she.

"It