"I am so glad," said the little girl, as he rode past.
CHAPTER XVI.
HOW THE COCKEREL WAS PETTED.
Ralph Lisle had now reached the happiest hour of his life, and, in common with all humanity, he discovered that no happiness existed without alloy.
As he rode round the lists, somewhat embarrassed at the shouts of applause with which he was greeted, the openly expressed opinions of the more matronly part of the fair sex, and the less public, but scarcely veiled admiration of the younger members of that all-powerful half of humanity, Bowerman, who rode next to him, kept saying, in a tone of intense scorn and hatred,--
"Certes, Lisle, you are an impudent braggart, an you take all this balderdash to yourself. You know full well you'd never have gotten off as you did had you not been shamefully favoured."
Ralph felt very angry. He was deeply mortified, for he could not help knowing that there was great truth in the assertion, the power and address of the unknown knight having been clearly proved in his joust with Master Meaux.
"You can't say it was by favour I unhorsed the Sire de la Roche Guemené."
"Ay, but I can, and do. 'Twas that minx of a cousin of yours who brought that about."
"Bowerman," said Ralph, his face flushing up, and his mouth working, "if you dare to call my cousin a minx, I'll beat you to a jelly."