I was astonished, for I know Edith is reckoned best-favoured of all us, and most like to Mother. But well as it liked me to sit and listen, methought, somehow, I had better get me up and return to Edith.
“Alas!” saith he, when he saw me rise, “miserable man, am I driving hence the fairest floweret of the isle?”
“Not in no wise, Sir,” answered I; “but I count it time to return, and my sister shall be coming to look for me.”
“Then, sweet Mistress, give me leave to hand you o’er these rough paths.”
So I put mine hand into his, which was shapely, and well cased in fair Spanish leather; and as we walked, he asked me of divers matters; as, how many brothers I had, and if they dwelt at home; and if Father were at home; and the number and names of my sisters, and such like; all which I told him. Moreover, he would know if we had any guests; which, with much more, seeing he had been of old time acquainted with Mother, I told. Only I forgat to make mention of Aunt Joyce.
So at long last—for he, being unacquainted with the Isle, took the longest way round, and I thought it good manners not to check him—at long last come we to Edith, which was gat up from her stone, and was putting by her paper and pencils in the bag which she had brought for them.
“We shall be something late for four-hours, Milly,” saith she. “Prithee, wake Adam, whilst I make an end.”
Off went I and gave Adam a good shake, and coming back, found Edith in discourse with my gentleman. I cannot tell why, but I would as lief he had not conversed with any but me.
“Sir,” said I, “may we set you down of the lakeside?”
“No, I thank you much,” saith he: and lifting his bonnet from his head, I saw how gleaming golden was yet his hair. “I have a boat o’er the other side. Farewell, my sweet mistresses both: I trust we shall meet again. Methinks I owe it you, howbeit, to tell you my name. I am Sir Edwin Tregarvon, of Cornwall, and very much your servant.”