"Please it you, Madam, with a gentleman whose daughter is a maid of my cognisance, and he, knowing the same, did desire to have some speech of me touching her."
"Yonder's a jolly hearing! Get thy tale up better another time. Wherefore should such meet thee after dark, behind posterns? He should have come up to the hall, and desired speech of thee like an honest man. Now then, tell me another story, and let it be the true one, this time."
"Madam, I have spoken truth. An' I tell your Ladyship any other tale, it must needs be false."
The two pairs of eyes met, and the Lady Elizabeth's fell first.
"Holy Mary! but thou art a brazen piece of goods as ever I saw! Come with me to thy Lady. She must be told of this."
Agnes followed silently. Wild horses should not drag that secret from her keeping.
The Duchess of Exeter—who had just divorced her own husband in order to marry another man—was inexpressibly horrified at the moral turpitude of Agnes Marston. Was she to allow of such scandals in her house? No, indeed! The only atonement that Agnes could make was to declare then and there the name and business of her companion. The Duchess was doubtful whether, after any disclosures or expressions of penitence, she would be justified in overlooking the matter.
Agnes kept silence. She had repeated her explanation, and she held to it as the simple truth: but not another word would she utter.
"Wilt not even say thou art sorry?" demanded Lady Darcy, who, now that the Duchess had taken up the matter so warmly, was herself cooling down.
Sorry! would she ever be sorry, all her life long, for what had passed in those few minutes?