In Merrylips' eyes he saw that indeed she did dare. So he too lifted his head, and they walked bravely into Lord Caversham's presence.
CHAPTER XXXI
AT LORD CAVERSHAM'S TABLE
As soon as Merrylips had passed beyond the carved screen, she was sorry for her rash promise. She did not wish to tell Rupert's story, then and there. For she found herself in a great vaulted room, where serving-men moved softly to and fro, and at a long table, in the middle of the room, was seated what seemed to her a great company.
Lady Caversham was there, and Allison, and Dick Fowell, and a young man so like him that he must be a brother, and Munn, and a gentleman in a chaplain's dress, and two other gentlemen, who seemed rebel officers. But though Merrylips was startled by the sight of all these people, she forgot them in a second, when she looked at the head of the table, for there sat the man who she knew must be Lord Caversham.
His Lordship, the Roundhead governor of Ryeborough, was not at all the lank, close-cropped churl that Merrylips' friends at Monksfield would have made her believe. He was a burly, broad-shouldered gentleman, with iron-gray hair, which he wore as long as any Cavalier, and warlike mustachios. His doublet was of murry-colored velvet, and his linen of the finest. Indeed, he looked like any great English gentleman, as he sat at his ample table, with his family and his friends about him.
While Merrylips noted all this and dared to hope that his Lordship might indeed prove kind, Betteris spoke aloud:—
"An't like you, sir, here is a young gentleman who is much at your service."
It was she that was spoken of, Merrylips knew. She saw that all were looking at her. She did not think it proper to courtesy, while she wore those clothes, so she stood up straight and saluted, as she had done at Monksfield.
She saw the men at table smile, and heard Lady Caversham murmur, "Dear heart!"