"It is worse than that," he groaned. "Woe is me, that noble lordings should bend to violent passions."
The Lady Margaret looked at him with disdain.
"If ye would tell me," she said, "that the Young Lovell is gone upon a sorcery, ye lie."
Again the lawyer sighed.
"It is too deeply proven," he said. "These poor eyes did see him and two other pairs—both his well-wishers, even as I am."
"Even whose?" she asked. "And what saw ye?"
"For the eyes," the lawyer said, "they were those of the Decies and of an ancient goody called Meg of the Foul Tyke."
"For well-wishers," the Lady Margaret answered, "you well-wish whence your money comes; the Decies would claim my cousin's land and gear: and Meg of the Foul Tyke, though the best of the three is a naughty witch in a red cloak. I have twice begged her life of my lording."
"The more reason," Master Stone said, "why you should not doubt she is your well-wisher, even more than the young lording's. And that is why she would see you have a better mate."
The lady said: "Aha!"