Monteagle’s vanity fell ninety degrees, at hearing these words.
‘Who was the gentleman?’ inquired he, impatiently.
‘Who is your lady that you saw last night?’ questioned the wilful girl.
‘Oh, nobody—nothing at all. Nobody that I shall ever fall in love with, I promise you that.’
‘Not fall in love? Where you go to-night?’
Monteagle smiled at this close question, for he felt a little caught. He was bound to Loretto when he met Maria.
The girl turned and began to leave him.
‘Stop, Maria, tell me more about these pearls. Who is the gentleman who sent them to me?’
‘Who is the lady you see last night and go to see to-night too?’ demanded she retreating.
Monteagle pursued, when she quickened her pace and finally fled with the fleetness of a fawn. Not caring to be seen chasing a woman by several travellers, whom he had observed coming that way, Monteagle slackened his pace. Maria was soon out of sight, and Monteagle was besieged by a thousand ideas at once.