There was a large concourse of guests and the dinner was quite a sumptuous ceremony, with a great boar’s head brought in with much solemnity. Ian and his mother sat in the middle of the high table and Aline had the seat of honour on his right.
When dinner was over they strolled in the pleasaunce and afterwards came in and played games such as hot cockles, and hunt the slipper, in which every one, both old and young, took part. Then followed the dancing. If the guests had been charmed before by Aline’s beauty, now they were enthralled. Aline and the Duke led off with a stately pavan and all watched with rapt interest the slow dreamy movements, that displayed to perfection the exquisite loveliness of the child’s form. Ian had learned dancing in Italy and France and was a consummate exponent of the art, so that the two made a picture the like of which had never been seen in broad Scotland. After the pavan they danced the cinque paces, a new dance not long introduced from Italy, which in turn was succeeded by the lively coranto, that gave a new opportunity for Aline to reveal her light and agile grace, vying in its airy swiftness with the beauty of the more studied movements of the slower dance. Ian’s costume was of a blue somewhat deeper in tone than Aline’s, with white hose and other touches of white as in hers; and the result made a pleasing colour effect as they whirled together in the dance.
But it was not only by her appearance, but by her subtle charm of manner that the child fascinated every one present. They had heard the main facts of her sad story and each and all did their utmost to give her pleasure. At the close of the evening they held a mock coronation ceremony, in which Aline was crowned with a plain gold circlet and then, while seated on the throne, every guest was presented to the Queen of the evening and they all kneeled and kissed her hand,—barons, earls, countesses and every one present.
Aline could not help a smile when the Earl of Hawick, who was present, kneeled before her. This was the man that only a few months ago she had been nervous to see and now he was humbly kneeling and kissing her hand.
It had been a supremely happy day for Aline, and her only regret was that Audry had not been able to share it. Even this was modified by a curious coincidence, after the guests had gone. They had all left early, as most of them had ridden from long distances and even those who were putting up in Stirling had some way to go.
After the last guest had departed, and while the family were seated round the hearth, the castle bell rang and they heard the drawbridge being lowered. Their own serving man appeared shortly afterward. “My lord, a man named Walter Margrove, who hath a boy with him, hath arrived and saith that he wisheth to see you on a matter of private concern.”
“Shew him up,” said Ian.
Walter Margrove came in somewhat hesitatingly, accompanied by a still more nervous lad. Aline in her white and blue costume rushed forward to greet them; whereat Walter was quite taken aback and Wilfred, for it was he, nearly turned tail and fled.
Ian advanced and shook their hands and presented them to the Duchess and the Lady Shiona. “If you had arrived a few minutes ago,” he said, “you should have been presented to the Queen’s Grace. Get on your throne again, Your Highness,” he said to Aline, and then with much laughter they made Walter and Wilfred kneel and kiss her hand.
Walter had recently been in Holwick and had decided that he might vary his programme by a tour in Scotland, and make it an opportunity of seeing Ian and Aline and little Joan, and of taking them the news from Upper Teesdale, together with a letter from Audry. The venture had proved a great success and Walter was in an unusually contented frame of mind, even for him.