Now, as I came to an end of writing these verses I was suddenly aware of someone standing at my side, and when I looked up, with anger and resentment that anyone should spy upon my actions, I saw my cousin Jasper at my elbow, staring at the two words, “To Rose,” which headed my composition. I sprang to my feet and faced him.
“That is like you, cousin,” said I, striving to master my anger, “to act the spy upon a man.”
“As you please,” he answered. “I care what no man thinks of my actions. But there,” pointing to the paper, “is proof of what I have long suspected. Humphrey, you are in love with Mistress Rose Herrick!”
“What if I am?” said I.
“Nothing, but that I also am in love with her, and mean to win her,” he replied.
After that there was silence.
“We cannot both have her,” said I at last.
“True,” said he. “She shall be mine.”
“Not if I can prevent it, cousin. At any rate she has the principal say in this matter.”
“Thou hast not spoken to her, Humphrey?”