und difficult
to control. With that quick and subtle faculty which belongs to
womankind alone she had intuitively guessed his mission at the outset,
and with perceptions rendered keener by the intensity of her passion,
she was on the alert to detect his advances and respond to them with
a due amount of proper maidenly reserve. Finding, however, that he was
slow to approach the subject, yet feeling sure of his intentions and
fearing lest the opportunity should slip by, she sought to precipitate
his movements by a few, delicate hints.

"Why, we are all alone," she exclaimed, "Wherever can my sister be?
Let us hasten on."

"She is in safe hands, fair Dorothy," he replied, "and you will not be
missed awhile."

Dorothy noted with satisfaction that he had dropped the "Mistress"
from before her name, and this, she argued, denoted that he was
awakening at last, and encouraged her to venture again with another
remark.

"Margaret is such a scold," she teasingly said; "I fear we must really
hasten forward."

"Nay, we will not hurry, we should not catch her now were we to try."

"Why not, prithee?"

"Because--because: well, do not let us try," he responded. He had
fully meant to have declared his love to her then, but that "because"
stuck in his throat and blocked up all the other words he would have
said. The very intensity of his love hindered him from declaring his
passion.

"What would Sir Thomas Stanley say if he knew Sir Everard were out
courting with Meg?" wickedly suggested Dorothy. "Would he not be in a
towering rage?"

"There would be another tournament, maybe," laughed Manners, not
noticing the tender tone in which his fair companion had addressed
him.

"Poor De la Zouch will remember his attempt to provide amusement for
us for some time yet, I fear," she continued coquettishly. As her
previous efforts had led to nothing, she had started afresh in another
vein, mentally resolving that her companion was wretchedly slow in
responding to her advances.

"I fear he will," he replied; "but he is improving, I hear. Sir
Benedict seems to understand his case."

"He is like to be scarred for life, though," Dorothy returned. "Poor
Sir Henry."

"You are sorry for him," exclaimed Manners, who felt a little piqued
at the tone of Dorothy's reply, as, indeed, she intended he should be.

"Yes," she said, "I am; very sorry."

Manners bit his lip with annoyance, and made a foolish remark.

"Ha, he was your lover, pe