"I've read the story," Peg said triumphantly. "It was King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid. He married her and made her his queen, and took her to share his golden throne with him, and all the courtiers came and knelt before her and kissed her hand." She was off again, lost in the realms of her romantic, novel-fed soul.
Faith gave a curt little laugh.
"Well, nobody has knelt before me and kissed my hand, if that's what you mean," she said.
Peg stared at her.
"I know somebody who'd like to kiss you—if you'd let him," she said shrewdly. "And——" She broke off as the maid knocked at the door.
"There's a gentleman for the master, please, ma'am—a Mr. Digby," she said to Faith. "He's come a long way to see him he says, and that if he might wait he'd be glad, as it's very important." She hesitated. She knew how shy Faith was, and how as a rule she avoided seeing anybody. "He asked if I thought you would see him," she added.
Peg gave Faith a nudge.
"See him? Of course you will," she said in a stage whisper.
Faith coloured. "I can't—I...."