'Ay, she did!' said Deborah bitterly. 'I would not have believed it. And I taunted him, and called him false and a traitor, Mistress Dinnage, when he came over last and told me he was free. And now I hear that she threw him over so soon as the rich count appeared. Heaven forgive her! She has cost me much.'
'For naught,' added Mistress Fleming fiercely; and then Mistress Fleming thought, and laughed to herself. 'When Master King Fleming comes again,' she continued softly, 'you will not chide him then. No; you will be kind, for sake of those hard words. I like Master King Fleming dearly.'
'Nay,' answered Deborah, speaking coldly and blushing warmly; 'I have more to forgive than he. We both spoke hotly; but King said a hard thing of me anent my wedding Master Sinclair. We were both hot. But take my word for it, Mistress Dinnage, he will come no more to Enderby.'
'He will, and will be welcome too. He would make the Master his old self again; so father says, and I well believe it.'
'O hush, Mistress Dinnage, hush! He will come no more to Enderby, nor do we need him now.'
One long day passed; but another dawn brought Kingston Fleming. Mistress Margaret, eagerly watching from her window, saw him ride up, and was out before Marjory. As she stood in the early sun, he wondered at her beauty, though his soul was in another's. She held his horse; he wondered at her graciousness, little wotting that the girl's proud heart was all subdued by the same subtle shaft that quivered in his own. She thought of herself no more.
'Thank ye,' said Kingston. 'And thank ye, dear Mistress Dinnage, for the little letter. Did Deborah know of that?'
'Nay; I writ without her knowledge. But she will welcome ye. Only try.'
'O Mistress Dinnage, I was hard and brutal with her.'