They were silent again, he seeming to regard her intently. Suddenly she covered her face with her hands; yet, dropping her hands almost immediately, she set her eyes on his; I saw him shake his head.
"For to-night, then, good-night, fairest lady," said he. He took her hand and kissed it lightly, bowing very low and respectfully, she looking down at him as he stooped. Then he drew away from her, bowing again and repeating again,
"For to-night, good-night."
With this he turned towards the stairs, crossing the hall with the same brisk, confident tread that had marked his entry. He left her, but it looked as though she were indulged, not he defeated. At the lowest step he paused, turned, bowed low again. This time she answered with a deep and sweeping curtsey. Then he was gone, and she was leaning by the wall again, her face buried in her hands. I heard her sob, and her broken words reached me:
"What shall I do? Oh, what shall I do?"
At once I stepped out from the hiding-place that had shown me such strange things, and, crossing to her, hat in hand, answered her sad desolate question.
"Why, trust in your friends, Mistress Barbara," said I cheerily. "What else can any lady do?"
"Simon!" she cried eagerly, and as I thought gladly; for her hand flew out to mine. "You, here?"
"And at your service always," said I.
"But have you been here? Where did you come from?"