"Nay," answered Ella Brune, "call me not your lady. You are my servant, but I am yours not at all, either as lady or servant. You have not yet merited such grace."
In this light and jesting tone she continued to treat him; and though perhaps such conduct might have repelled a more sensitive and delicate lover, with Ned Dyram it but added fuel to the fire. Each day he came to visit--each day returned with stronger passion in his heart. Jest, indeed, which was far from natural to her character or to her feelings at the time, Ella could not always keep up: though great and stern resolution is often the source of a certain bitter mirth at minor things. But in every graver moment she spoke to Dyram of Richard of Woodville and of Mary Markham--for as yet she knew her by no other name. She did so studiously, and yet so calmly and easily, that not the slightest suspicion of the real feelings in her heart ever crossed the mind of her hearer. Of Mary, she told him far more than he had hitherto gathered from his companions in Woodville's train, and dwelt long upon her beauty, her gentleness, her kindness. Following closely her object, she even found means to hint, one day, a regret that she had not been permitted to follow the young Englishman on his expedition.
"What would I have given," she said, "to have had your chance of going with him; and yet you chose to remain behind!"
"Indeed, fair Ella!" he exclaimed; "what made you so anxious to go?"
"Nay," answered the girl, with a mysterious look, "do you expect me to tell you my secrets, bold man? I would give a chain of gold, however, to be able to follow your master about the world for just twelve months, if it could be done without risking my own fair fame. Oh! for one of those fairy girdles that made the wearer invisible!"
"Methinks you love him, Mistress Ella," replied Ned Dyram, more from pique than suspicion.
But Ella answered, boldly and at once, though he had touched the wound somewhat roughly.
"Yes, I do love him well!" she answered; "and I have cause, servant of mine. But it is not for that. I have a vow; I have a purpose; and though they must be executed, I know not well how to do so. I ought not to have left him, even now."
"I dare say he would have taken you, if you had asked him!" replied the man.
"And what would men have said?" demanded Ella. "What would you have thought yourself--what might your young lord have thought--though he is not so foolish as yourself? Most likely you would all have done me wrong in your fancies. No, no!--if I go, it must be secretly. But there, get you gone; I will tell you no more."