Morgan strode off kitchenwards. There was a sudden, "La, Jack! thou dost look like a feast day. Mind the flour!" After that Jeffreys always declared that he heard the sound of a vigorous kiss. Silence followed; then excited whisperings; then a scamper of light feet; and Morgan returned and ushered his waiting companion into the parlour. "Captain Dawe is down by the river," he said; "Mistress Dorothy will be with us anon."
"And the pretty bird that sang in the kitchen over the flour tub?"
"Was Mistress Dorothy."
"Thy sleeve is whitened, Master Morgan."
Johnnie coolly brushed away the tell-tale smudge. "Women always smother a room up on baking-day," he replied.
Dorothy came in.
"This is Sir Walter's man, who hath a packet for thee.—Master Jeffreys, this is Mistress Dawe."
Dorothy curtsied, and the messenger bowed. "Never had long journey so pretty and pleasant an ending," he said. "Here is a packet from my master, the gallant knight Sir Walter Raleigh. I am to take back an answer."
Dorothy took the packet, blushing at the sight of the pretty ribbons wherewith it was tied. "I am honoured indeed," she murmured; "pray you be seated, fair sir."