Hugh stepped forward to relieve one daughter of her load, and Jack did the same by the second. Leofric, who was more shy by nature, stood where he was in the window, looking in a sort of amaze from one girl to the other. Both were dressed exactly alike, in a semi-Italian fashion which he thought most bewitching; but it was the beauty of the two faces, and their extraordinary similarity, which confused and bewildered him. No wonder Hugh had said it was hard to tell one sister from the other; he marvelled that any should learn to know them apart. To his eyes the faces seemed identical, the same rich colouring, the same dark velvet-soft eyes, the same flashing smile and finely-pencilled brows.
Hugh made him known to the sisters, who were girls of about his own age, albeit their southern blood made them appear older than their age. He called one Lotta and one Linda, and asked Leofric if he thought they would do as models for him.
The young artist blushed to the roots of his hair, and knew not what to say; but one of the maidens laughed merrily, and looked archly into his face.
"Methinks if he wants an angel-model, he had best take his own portrait," she said, in clear musical tones; whilst the other sister added in a voice of precisely the same character,—
"Or seek to get a glimpse of lovely Mistress Alys at the Castle. Methinks she has the fairest face of any maid in the city."
Whilst the young people were talking together in the window, and drawing out Leofric to tell them of his art, and even to show them what he could do by means of a bit of charcoal upon a piece of wood, a tall, burly, dark-browed young fellow lounged into the room, and looked across at the group round Leofric with a scowl in his deep-set eyes.
Jack was the only one who noticed his entrance, and he knew the intruder to be Roger de Horn, who had a certain notoriety in the place as being one of its most turbulent spirits.
"Supper, supper, good folks," called the mistress from the head of the table, where she had seated herself before another smoking dish which she had been to fetch. "If the father and Tito are busy for the moment, we must not let the supper spoil. Doubtless they will join us when they smell the viands.—Come, young sir, and let us see if thou canst wield a knife as well as a pen, for I believe not in your starveling clerks. Good victuals make good scholars, as I always say."
The hostess was a cheerful soul, and her calling in life had given her easy, pleasant manners that won her good-will from all. She looked little enough like the mother of the crafty Tito, or even of these beautiful girls. Tito, in truth, was not her son; for Balzani had been married twice, and his first wife had been of his own nationality. Tito was several years older than the twin sisters, and no very great likeness existed between them. Yet the daughters looked far more Italian than English, although they spoke their mother's tongue with perfect fluency, and without any sort of accent. They were both very charming girls. Leofric could not on that occasion decide in the least which was the more charming, for he could not tell them apart. Sometimes he thought he was beginning to know them, but again found himself completely at fault. But he was delighted with the permission accorded to him of drawing their portraits, and the girls' eagerness over this matter amused and gratified him not a little.
Roger seemed in a very ill temper all the while, as Jack was not slow to notice. He sat silent and sullen at the board, nor did it soothe him to observe that nobody seemed to miss him or take note of his ill-humour. All were occupied with Hugh and his guests, chattering and laughing gaily. Nobody appeared to have a word or a look for him, unless it were the hostess, who pressed him sometimes to partake of one or another of the dishes on the table, but always returned to join the chatter of the young folks, which plainly interested her much more than the morose responses of Roger.