She paused, silent, wondering at his tone.
"Ah! Mistress Barbara," he continued more gently; "would it were mine to teach you the meaning of your words."
But, though she dearly loved to read that look upon his face, yet at his words a spirit of mischief possessed her; and, maiden-like, loving him she loved to show him cruelty that she might hereafter prove the kinder in atonement. So drawing from him she turned to place her pasty in the oven, at the same time asking mischievously:
"What! Wouldest teach me that love is sorrow, sir?"
He smiled at her and shook his head.
"Nay, that was not all your song, Mistress Barbara."
"A worship all undying," she repeated softly. Then she turned to him demurely.
"Captain Protheroe, how long is't since you saw the lady of whom you spake to me in the forest, she who was once your queen?"
He started back angrily.
"Mistress Barbara! Who hath been spreading scandalous stories concerning me?" he cried in a fury of indignation.