He was by her side in a moment. He could hardly believe in his happiness. She was the prettiest flower of a maid he had ever seen—hat and garb all the gray dove of his memory.
‘If you knew,’ he said; ‘if you knew!’
‘What, please?’
‘How I have dreamt of this meeting. Ever since that day I have been looking and longing for you.’
‘Methinks I should not let you so speak to me. Besides, I am little enough to look at.’
‘I think you are my Heaven, Mistress.’
‘You speak bold for a boy, Master Middleton.’
‘What! You know my name?’
‘Is it a secret, then? Who does not know whose name on these moors?’
‘I know not yours.’