"Just this," he returned, "whether Lord or Commoner, the Youth must have an Answer, so soon as thou knowest thine own Mind."
"I know it already," quod Mistress Anne, shortly.
"What is it?" saith her Father. She faltered for a Moment,—"Not to have him," she replied softly.
"Ned, thou hast thine Answer," quod Master Hewet.
"I, Sir?" quod I, starting.
"Hear'st thou not?" returned he imperturbably, "thou hast it from herself. I told thee I but sought to make my only Child happy,—you can't make her so, it seemeth,—she won't have you."
"Father! what are you saying?" cried Mistress Anne, trembling exceedingly.
He looked at her, but made no Answer.
"Were you not," said she, leaning over him breathlessly, her Dress vibrating with the quick beating of her Heart,—"were you not making Question of Lord Talbot?"
—"Lord Talbot? Lord Marlingspike!"—quod he, "my Thoughts were as far from him as from the City Giants! Said I not 'this Suitor of thine'? Whom should I think of but Ned Osborne?"