"To Dalton!" in her turn echoed the girl—"Oh! that fearful man——"
"There is no one under the sun who has more love for you than he has—than Hugh Dalton."
"I am sure he knew my father."
"He did, indeed: but question me no farther now, sweet Barbara; make your mind quite easy, the outrage shall not be repeated. Perhaps the boy is crazed. Let's think no more of it, my gentle girl. I must bid you farewell."
"Farewell, Robin! Why—wherefore? Tell me, where are you going? When do you return? How long do you stay?"
"Now, if I were a king, and one that woman could look upon and love, I would give the half, the whole of my kingdom, to be sure she feels as earnestly as she speaks," thought Robin. She perceived the coldness of his look, and continued, though with a changed expression,—
"What ails you? Have I angered you? Will you be thus wayward with your poor Barbara?"
"My Barbara!" he repeated bitterly, and he touched the Frenchified hood that hung over her shoulders: "my Barbara! would these trappings become any one that belonged to such a thing as me? Rare contrasts we should be! Methinks such bravery does ill adorn a simple Puritan; one professing such principles should don a plainer robe. Gems, too, upon your sleeves!—is not a bright, but modest eye, a far more precious jewel? If it can be outshone by any other ornament, it is worth nothing."
He turned from her as he spoke, and tears again gathered in her eyes.
"Robin," she said in a broken voice, "it was Mistress Alice put them on, to show me the proper tiring for a bower-maiden at a great festival—such as my lady's ought to be.—But I will take them off—all off, if you like them not."