"I thank you," Barbara said, and the man's nerves tingled as she rose and swept him a graceful curtsy. She had never looked more beautiful, never so desirable as at that moment. He had conquered so often and so carelessly that he could not think of failure now.
"So we are friends and our troubles gone," he said gaily. "They are lost in the débris of this ruinous place. It is strange this part should have been left in ruins, while the rest of the Abbey has been so carefully rebuilt and preserved."
"It is because of the Nun of Aylingford."
"A nun! In an Abbey for monks?"
"Strange, but true. I thought everyone knew the story."
"No. Won't you tell it to me?"
"You must look into the Nun's Room first, Lord Rosmore," said Barbara, and she was so interested in the legend that she forgot to ask herself whether she liked or disliked her companion as she led the way to the sunken stone chamber. "Be careful you do not stumble and fall into it, for it is said that death comes to such a stumbler within the year."
"A fable, of course?" he laughed.
"I have only known one man who fell in. He was helped out unhurt, but he died within the week. I should not like to fall."
"Give me your hand," he said.