“Who is this gentleman, Father?—What manner of man is he?”
Sir Thomas was a little amused by the eagerness of his daughter’s questions.
“His name is Don John de Las Rojas, (a fictitious person) Mistress Blanche,—of a great house and ancient, as he saith, in Andalusia: and as to what manner of man,—why, he hath two ears, and two eyes, and one nose, and I wis not how many teeth—”
“Now prithee, Father, mock me not! Where is her—”
“What shouldest say, were I to answer, In a chamber of Enville Court?”
“Here, Father?—verily, here? Shall I see him?”
“That hangeth on whether thine eyes be shut or open. Thou must tarry till he is at ease.”
“At ease!—what aileth him?”
Sir Thomas laughed. “Dost think coming through a storm at sea as small matter as coming through a gate on land? He hath ’scaped rarely well; there is little ails him save a broken arm, and a dozen or so of hard bruises; but I reckon a day or twain will pass ere it shall be to his conveniency to appear in thy royal presence, my Lady Blanche.”
“But what chamber hath he?—and who is with him?—Do tell me all thereabout.”