“That was in better days,” says I, much disquieted by her speech, yet little caring to tell her what I meant; “but now times are changed. I can’t tell you much, little Doll, but this I will say, that rather than know you such as my Lady Penelope is now become, I would see you in your grave.”
“Then I won’t be like her,” says Dorothy, putting her hand in mine, “for when you have wrought all your great deeds you are coming back to marry me, Ned, an’t you?”
“Ay,” said I, “so that I find you a gentle and comely maiden, caring for my father, and seeking no court gaieties. I would not, with my goodwill, wed a court lady.”
“As you will,” says she. “And you will bring me back a parrot, Cousin Ned, and a pearl chain for to wear on Sundays, and an escrotore[6] of Indian work wherein to keep my jewels?”
“Ay so,” quoth I; “and when I go to London, as this next month, I will send you a fan and a cherry-coloured girdle for to hold it withal, as fine as any in the county, if you will give me one of your knots whereby to choose it.”
“Nay,” says she, “not for that only, but to keep for yourself. Sure after this goodness of yours, I must make you some return on’t. See here,” and she unfastened with great gravity her breast-knot, kissed it, and gave it to me, “now are you my knight, Cousin Ned, and you must enter upon all your adventures for my honour, as did Ambixules for Mizalinza, in the book[7] wherein Mrs Diony read to us last night. And I have made for you, beside, a badge in gum-work, for to carry with you and wear on Royal Oak Day, and you must needs keep ’em both for ever for my sake.”
“So be it, little cousin. But is my departure naught to you?” says I, somewhat grieved. “You have no farewell for me, Doll?”
“Come back with your shield, or else upon it,” quoth she slowly, and, as it seemed, with difficulty.
“Truly a Spartan message!” I cried. “Is there naught beside, little Doll?”
“I shall miss you,” she said, and climbed down from the chair, walking to the window away from me. And I, looking after her, saw that her face was pale and her shoulders heaving, the while she held her head as high as ever, and clenched her hand for to keep back the tears. And with this I was ashamed.