“Farewell, my lady wisdom. Solomon was not more wise nor Minos more sapient.”
“I thought you would uphold me,” Brilliana replied. “Farewell.”
Sir Blaise saluted Evander, who returned the salutation and quitted the room. Master Paul, taking leave of Brilliana, whispered,
“When I am knight, you shall be my lady.”
“When you are king, diddle-diddle, I shall be queen,” Brilliana laughed at him, making a reverence. He joined Halfman at the door and Master Peter approached Brilliana.
“When I wear my new title, I will lay it at your feet,” he promised, solemnly.
“Can you not keep it in your own hands?” Brilliana questioned. She made him a reverence, he made her his best bow and went to the door, where Master Paul waited with Halfman. Here a point of ceremony arose.
“After you, Sir Peter,” Master Paul suggested. Master Peter fondled the title.
“Sir Peter! It sounds nobly. Nay, after you, Sir Paul,” he protested. They were at this business so long that Halfman lost patience.
“Stand not on the order of your going,” he growled between his teeth, then grasping with an air of bluff good-fellowship an arm of either squire, he banged them somewhat roughly together.