Darnley; or, The Field of the Cloth of Gold

by G. P. R. James

In such light talk passed they their journey, Sir Osborne Maurice sometimes pleased, sometimes vexed with his gay companion, but upon the whole, amused, and in some degree dazzled. For her part, whatever might be her more serious feelings, the lady found the knight quite handsome and agreeable enough to be worthy a little coquetry. Perhaps it might be nothing but those little flirting airs by which many a fair lady thinks herself fully justified in exciting attention, with that sort of thirst for admiration which is not content unless it be continually fresh and active. Now, with her glove drawn off her fair graceful hand, she would push back the thick curls from her face; now adjust the long folds of her riding-dress; now pat the glossy neck of her pampered jennet, which, bending down its head and shaking the bit, would seem proud of her caresses; and then she would smile, and ask Sir Osborne if he did not think a horse the most beautiful creature in nature.

At length they approached the little town of Sittenbourne, famous even then for a good inn, where, had the party not been plagued with that unromantic thing called hunger, they must have stopped to refresh their horses, amongst which the one that carried the baggage of Lady Katrine, being heavily laden, required at least two hours' repose.

The inn was built by the side of the road, though sunk two or three feet below it, with a row of eight old elms shadowing its respectable-looking front, which, with its small windows and red brick complexion, resembled a good deal the face of a well-doing citizen, with his minute dark eyes half swallowed up by his rosy cheeks. From its position, the steps by which entrance was obtained, so far from ascending, according to modern usage, descended into a little passage, from which a door swinging by means of a pulley, a string, and a large stone, conducted into the inn parlour.

Here, when Lady Katrine had entered, while the knight gave orders for preparing a noon meal in some degree suitable to the lady's rank, she amused herself in examining all the quaint carving of the old oak panelling; and having studied every rose in the borders, and every head upon the corbels, she dropped into a chair, crying out--"Oh dear! oh dear! what shall I do in the mean while? Bridget, girl, bring me my broidery out of the horse-basket. I feel industrious; but make haste, for fear the fit should leave me."

"Bless your ladyship!" replied the servant, "the broidery is at the bottom of all the things in the pannier. It will take an hour or more to get at it; that it will."

"Then give me what is at the top, whatever it is," said the lady; "quick! quick! quick! or I shall be asleep."

Bridget ran out, according to her lady's command, and returned in a moment with a cithern or mandolin, which was a favourite instrument among the ladies of the day, and placing it in Lady Katrine's hand, she cried, "Oh, dear lady, do sing that song about the knight and the damsel!"

"No, I won't," answered her mistress; "it will make the man in armour yawn. Sir knight," she continued, holding up the instrument, "do you know what that is?"

"It seems to me no very great problem," replied Sir Osborne, turning from some orders he was giving to Longpole; "it is a cithern, is it not?"

"He would fain have said, 'A thing that some fools play upon, and other fools listen to,'" cried Lady Katrine: "make no excuse, Sir Osborne; I saw it in your face. I'm sure you meant it."