The matter was thus decided. Yet now, in quiet blood and in the secrecy of my own soul, shall I ask wherefore the letter came from Mistress Gwyn, to whom the shortest letter was no light matter, and to let even a humble man go some small sacrifice? And why did it come to Barbara and not to me? And why did it not say "Simon, she loves you," rather than the words that I now read, Barbara permitting me: "Pretty fool, he loves you." Let me not ask; not even now would Barbara bear to think that it was written in pity for her.
"Yes, she pitied you and so she wrote; and she loves you," said Barbara.
I let it pass. Shall a man never learn wisdom?
"Tell me now," said I, "why I may not see Carford?"
Her lips curved in a smile; she held her head high, and her eyes were triumphant.
"You may see Lord Carford as soon as you will, Simon," said she.
"But a few minutes ago——" I began, much puzzled.
"A few minutes!" cried Barbara reproachfully.
"A whole lifetime ago, sweetheart!"
"And shall that make no changes?"