hird person evoked no expression of surprise on her part. The
preparations for supper were made by Beatrice and her attendant
handmaiden Sabina; and after the meal was over, Bruno discreetly went
off, with the interesting observation that he was about to visit a sick
person at the furthest part of the parish. Sir John had taken his seat
on the extreme end of a form, and Beatrice came and sat with her
embroidery at the other end. Ten minutes of profound silence
intervened.

"Beatrice!"

"Yes."

Another minute of silence.

"Beatrice!"

"Well?"

"Beatrice, what dost thou think of me?"

Beatrice coolly cut off an end of yellow silk, and threaded her needle
with blue.

"Ask my father."

"How does he know what thou thinkest?"

"Well, he always does," said Beatrice, calmly fastening the blue silk on
the wrong side of the material.

"Wilt thou not tell me thyself?"

"I should, if I wanted to be rid of thee."

The distance between the two occupants of the form was materially
lessened.

"Then thou dost not want to be rid of me?"

"I can work while I am talking," replied Beatrice, in her very coolest
manner.

"Why dost thou think I came, Beatrice?"

"Because it pleased thee, I should think."

The needle was drawn from the blue silk, and a needleful of scarlet went
in instead, while the end of the blue thread was carefully secured in
Beatrice's left hand for future use.

"One, two, three, four,"--Beatrice was half audibly counting her
stitches.

"It did please me, Beatrice."

"Five, six--all right, Sir John--seven, eight, nine--"

"Does it please thee?"

"Thirteen, fourteen--it is pleasant to have some one to talk to--
fifteen, sixteen--when I am not counting--seventeen, eighteen,
nineteen."

And in went the needle, and the scarlet silk began to flow in and out
with rapidity.

"Do I interrupt thee, Beatrice?"

"Thanks, I have done counting for the present."

"Would it interrupt thee very much to be married?"

"Well, I should think it would." Beatrice stopped the scarlet, and
rethreaded the blue.

"More than thou wouldst like?"

"That would depend on circumstances."

"What circumstances?" inquired the bashful yet persistent suitor.

"Who was to marry me, principally."

"Suppose I was?"

"Thou canst not, till thou hast asked my father."

There was a gleam in the dark eyes veiled with their long lashes. It
might be either resentment or fun.

"May I ask him, Beatrice?"

"Did