“Haste ye, little maid,” he said blandly, “I wax impatient.”
“Bide ye in patience, honoured sir,” said Abigail, quoting the Governor’s lady, and then she withdrew her head and shut the door.
Meanwhile Lady Phipps had dusted a lacquered tray which had been brought her from the East Indies, and laid upon it a square of linen. She cut some slices of pound cake, so rich that it crumbled, and laid them on a silver platter. She further placed some silver mugs and a plate of biscuit on the tray.
“Now you may take this in,” she said, “and I will follow with the wine.”
She crossed the hall and held the chamber-door open for the little maid to pass in. Perceiving the student inside, she bowed graciously, her fine black eyes twinkling.
Master Ronald put his hand to his heart and bowed very low, his cheek reddening, for he perceived by the twinkle in her eyes the drift of the madam’s thought,—that she surmised him to be in trouble on account of some rude jesting.
Soon the door opened again and Lady Phipps entered with the wine, which she placed upon the table. She began to feel that this unusual gathering in her home, betokened more than some mere student prank, and her manner bespoke such a modest inquisitiveness, as they say in New England, that Lord Christopher, understanding, called her back as she was about to leave the room, and begged that she honour the poor tale he had to relate, by her gracious presence.