It pleased Mistress Penwick to dance with Cedric, for she was more at ease with him than any other, and she was hardly pleased when he bade her rest and took her to another room, where they were quite alone. But she would not sit down, and stood fanning and smiling up into his face, saying half pettishly:
"Thou art soon tired; the brantle has just begun."
"Kate, hast thou patience?"
"Aye, but 'tis of dwarfish mould."
"Kate, dost love any human being?"
"Aye, 'tis a poor thing that loves not."
"Dost love me, Kate?"
"As a father or brother and as one should love her father's best friend."
"Then—give me a—kiss as thou wouldst give thy brother." The hot blood suffused her face. At sight of it, Cedric's heart leapt with a mighty gladness.
"Not having had a brother, I know not how to give that thou askest;—and 'tis unseemly of thee to ask for that that makes one blush for very shame to be questioned of."