Kate McGhie looked towards him. She was in truth a comely maid—for one that is black of favour.
"Now you may come," she said.
He seemed as if he would refuse and turn away. But she looked fixedly at him, defying him with her eyes to do it, and after a moment's battle of regards he came slowly towards us.
"Come nearer!" she commanded imperiously.
He came up with his eyes kindling. I think that no less than kissing was in his mind, and that for a moment he thought that she might permit it.
But suddenly she drew herself proudly away, and her look was disdainful and no doubt hard to be borne.
"Are these fit manners from a servant?" she said. "They that eat the meat and sit below the salt, must keep the distance."
Wat's countenance fell in a moment. I never saw one with so many ups and down in such short space. The allures and whimsies of this young she-slip made him alternately sulk and brighten like an April day.
"Kate!" he began to say, in the uncertain tone of a petitioner.
"Mistress Katerine McGhie, if you please!" said she, dropping him a courtly courtesy.