“Dost thou not like De Gernet?” asked Clarice, sympathisingly.
“Oh, I don’t dislike him,” said Roisia; “but I am not so fond of him as that comes to.”
An hour or two later, however, Mistress Underdone appeared, in a state of flurry by no means her normal one.
“Well, here is a pretty tale,” said she. “Not for thee, Olympias; matters be running smooth for thee, though the Lord Earl did say,” added she, laughing, “that incense was as breath of life to Narcissus, and he would needs choose the maid that should burn plenty on his altar. But—the thing is fair unheard of!—Ademar de Gernet refuses to wed under direction from the Lady.”
“Why?” asked Roisia, looking rather insulted.
“Oh, it has nought to do with thee, child,” said Mistress Underdone. “Quoth he that he desired all happiness to thee, and pardon of thee for thus dealing; but having given his heart to another of the Lady’s damsels, he would not wed with any but her.”
“Why, that must be Felicia,” said the other three together.
Felicia looked flattered and conscious.
“Well, I reckon so,” answered Mistress Underdone. “Howbeit, the Lady hath sent for him hither, to know of him in thy presence what he would be at.”
“Ha, chétife!” exclaimed Roisia. “I wish it had been somewhere else.”