"Emotion!" said Fulmer, thoughtfully. "Perhaps it was wrong to take her thus, by surprise. Come, Hungerford, let us give these orders with which I am charged;" and, advancing to the door, he called for the attendants.
The orders were not so difficult to give as to execute; for they implied immediate preparation for the accommodation of at least twenty honoured guests besides the usual inhabitants of the castle, together with all their attendants, and for a splendid repast, to be ready for supper at the unusually late hour of nine. Special directions were added, to prepare one of the numerous detached buildings, which were frequently to be found within the walls of the fortified houses of those days, for the reception of the Lord Chartley and his train; and a portion of the immense range of stabling, which lay, strange to say, immediately at the back of the chapel, was to be set apart exclusively for his horses. Sir Edward Hungerford listened in polite silence, till Fulmer had delivered himself of his commission to the chief officer of Lord Calverly's household; but he could not suffer the good man to depart, without putting in a word or two, as advice to the master cook, concerning the dressing of cygnets, and the absolute necessity of immediately seeking a young heron of last year, or at least a bittern, as heron poults were not to be obtained.
"Porpoises are hopeless," he said, "at this distance from the sea, and squirrels in the spring are lean and poor; but, I have known a large luce, quaintly stewed with lard, supply the place of the one, while a coney may do well instead of the other; only I fear me it is somewhat late in the year."
The major domo bowed reverently at this discourse; and, as soon as he was gone, Fulmer exclaimed: "Come, Hungerford, let us walk upon the battlements, this sunshiny afternoon. Perchance these two fair girls may come down to breathe the air."
"Stay," replied Sir Edward Hungerford. "I will go and put on my green and sable surcoat; if they see it, it may attract them."
"Pshaw!" cried Fulmer. "Do you think they are bulls, which, men say, will run after a piece of cloth of a particular colour?"
"Nay!" replied Hungerford, with perhaps a little spice of malice; "but this surcoat of mine is, point for point, the very model of Chartley's."
"What has Chartley to do with the matter?" demanded Fulmer, turning full upon him, with some surprise.
"It shall be on in a moment," replied Sir Edward, without answering his question. "I hate this orange tawny colour, though it be now worn by every one. It does not at all suit my complexion. 'Tis a sort of jealousy colour. I will no more on't;" and away he went.
Lord Fulmer paced up and down the hall. "Her greeting was mighty cold," he thought. "Well, perhaps 'twas natural; and yet 'twas less troubled than chilly. She seemed firm enough, but yet as icy as the grave. What can this man mean about Chartley? Nothing, nothing. He has no meaning in him. I wish her greeting had been somewhat warmer--and in his presence too. He smiled, when he talked of Chartley."