"I will away to the falconer," said the boy. "It is but wasting good things to talk with women about hawks. You will find me, Master Albert, along the bank with Derrick, if you have need of me."
"That boy hath more of the Talbot in him than the Calvert," said the Lady Maria, after he had left the room. "His father was ever grave from youth upwards, and cared but little for these exercises. Benedict Leonard lives in the open air, and has a light heart.—Thou hast a book under thy mantle, Master Albert," continued the lady. "Is your breviary needful when you go forth to practise a laneret?"
"It is a volume I have brought for Mistress Blanche," replied the Secretary, as, with some evident confusion, he produced a gilded quarto with clasps, from beneath his dress. "It is a delightful history of a brave cavalier, that I thought would please her."
"Ah!" exclaimed the sister of the Proprietary, taking the book and reading the title-page—"'La très joyeuse et plaisante Histoire, composéc par le Loyal Serviteur, des faits, gestes et prouesses du bon Chevalier sans peur et sans reproche.' Ay, and a right pleasant history it is, this of the good Knight Bayard, without fear and without reproach. But, Albert, thou knowest Blanche doth not read French."
"I designed to render it myself to Mistress Blanche, in her native tongue," replied the Secretary.
"Blanche," said the lady, shaking her head, "this comes of not taking my counsel to learn this language of chivalry long ago. See what peril you will suffer now in journeying through this huge book alone with Master Albert."
"I see no peril," replied the maiden, unconscious of the raillery. "Master Albert will teach me, ere he be done, to read French for myself."
"When thou hast such a master, and the Secretary such a pupil," said the lady, smiling, "Heaven speed us! I will eat all the French thou learnest in a month. But, Master Albert, if Blanche cannot understand your legend, in the tongue in which it is writ, she can fully comprehend your music—and so can we. It is parcel of your duty at the Rose Croft to do minstrel's service. You have so many songs—and I saw thee stealing a glance at yon lute, as if thou wouldst greet an old acquaintance."
"If it were not for Master Albert," said Alice, "Blanche's lute would be unstrung. She scarce keeps it, one would think, but for the Secretary's occupation."
"Ah, sister Alice, and my dear lady," said Blanche, "the Secretary hath such a touch of the lute, that I but shame my own ears to play upon it, after hearing his ditties. Sing, Master Albert, I pray you," she added, as she presented him the instrument.