“Does anybody like them?” laughingly asked Clarice.
“Well, for those who need them, then. Plenty of folks in this world are glad of hard crusts or anything else.”
“Thy metaphor is becoming rather confused,” observed Diana.
“Dost thou not think, Elaine Criketot, that it might be only fair to leave a few plums for those whose usual fare is crusts? A crust now and then would scarcely hurt the dainty damsels who commonly regale themselves on plums.”
It was a fourth voice which said this—a voice which nobody expected, and the sound of which brought all the girls to their feet in an instant.
“Most certainly, Lord Earl,” replied Elaine, courtesying low; “but I hope they would be somebody else’s plums than mine.”
“I see,” said the Earl, with that sparkle of fun in his eyes, which they all knew. “Self-denial is a holy and virtuous quality, to be cultivated by all men—except me. Well, we might all subscribe that creed with little sacrifice. But then where would be the self-denial?”
“Please it the Lord Earl, it might be practised by those who liked it.”
“I should be happy to hear of any one who liked self-denial,” responded the Earl, laughing. “Is that not a contradiction in terms?”
Elaine was about to make a half-saucy answer, mixed sufficiently with reverence to take away any appearance of offence, when a sight met her eyes which struck her into silent horror. In the doorway, looking a shade more acetous than usual, stood Lady Margaret. It was well known to all the bower-maidens of the Countess of Cornwall that there were two crimes on her code which were treated as capital offences. Laughing was the less, and being caught in conversation with a man was the greater. But beneath both these depths was a deeper depth yet, and this was talking to the Earl. Never was a more perfect exemplification of the dog in the manger than the Lady Margaret of Cornwall. She did not want the Earl for herself, but she was absolutely determined that no one else should so much as speak to him. Here was Elaine, caught red-handed in the commission of all three of these stupendous crimes. And if the offence could be made worse, it was so by the Earl saying, as he walked away, “I pray you, my Lady, visit not my sins on this young maid.”