As he came, punctual to the moment, into the gallery overlooking the tilt-yard, the afternoon sun was pouring in through the oriel window, and the yard beyond seemed all a haze of golden light and dust. He heard an exclamation, as he paused, dazzled, and the servant closed the door behind him; and there came forward to him in the flood of glory, the same resplendent figure, all muslin and jewels, that he remembered so well, with the radiant face, looking scarcely older, with the same dancing eyes and scarlet lips. All the old charm seemed to envelop him in a moment as he saluted her with all the courtesy of which he was capable.
“Ah!” she cried, “how happy I am to see you again—those dear days at Great Keynes!” And she took both his hands with such ardour that poor Anthony was almost forced to think that he had never been out of her thoughts since.
“How can I serve you, Mistress Corbet?” he asked.
“Serve me? Why, by talking to me, and telling me of the country. What does the lad mean? Come and sit here,” she said, and she drew him to the window seat.
Anthony looked out into the shining haze of the tilt-yard. Some one with a long pole was struggling violently on the back of a horse, jerking the reins and cursing audibly.
“Look at that fool,” said Mary, “he thinks his horse as great a dolt as himself. Chris, Chris,” she screamed through her hands—“you sodden ass; be quieter with the poor beast—soothe him, soothe him. He doesn’t know what you want of him with your foul temper and your pole going like a windmill about his ears.”
The cursing and jerking ceased, and a red furious face with thick black beard and hair looked up. But before the rider could speak, Mary went on again:
“There now, Chris, he is as quiet as a sheep again. Now take him at it.”
“What does he want?” asked Anthony. “I can scarcely see for the dust.”
“Why, he’s practising at the quintain;—ah! ah!” she cried out again, as the quintain was missed and swung round with a hard buffet on the man’s back as he tore past. “Going to market, Chris? You’ve got a sturdy shepherd behind you. Baa, baa, black sheep.”