"Then will I turn my thoughts another way," said Rosamond, "and that will not please your mother."
There was no reply.
"What say you to that?" asked the haughty beauty.
"It is my desire to think chiefly at present of the study on which my heart is set," was the sensible reply; "but," Lionel added, more hotly, "I want to follow the course I have marked out, and I will!"
There was ever something about the warm air of the South that made her sons impetuous in speech, yet they were also chivalrous, gentle to the weak, and kind and courteous in speech.
So when Rosamond began to cry and to say, "What need to be so harsh with a poor little cousin who meant no harm?" Lionel exclaimed:
"Forgive me, Rosamond, I meant not to be unkind. But I feel within me the need of preparation such as is before me. Yet I would not be too hasty in speech. I pray you, forgive me, dear."
"Ah, how sweet is the spirit of my Fairy Prince," smiled Sally. "Who would not love so gentle a voice, and one who so quickly says 'forgive'?"
Then she looked around with the scared expression always quick to come over her face whenever she dared to say or to think, "My Fairy Prince."
Nearly every evening after this, Sally would hover near the arbor, but so warm was the weather that the young people would go in the family coach for long drives, while Sir Percival and Lady Gabrielle would start away in the shay, taking their slower way through sweet, grassy roads, along by the quiet dingle and flowery dell.