Margaret jumped from her seat as if stung, and her face turned livid with anger.
"What!" she exclaimed, "you have dared to plight your troth to Master
Manners?"
"To John Manners, yes."
Her voice was quiet and her bearing firm, nor was she half so agitated as her sister, a fact which Margaret was slow to understand.
"Speak fair, Dorothy," she said, as she tried to persuade herself that she had misunderstood her meaning. "None of your riddles for me. You are joking, surely."
"Nay, I am in earnest, Meg. Ask him yourself; he will tell you whether I was joking an hour ago. De la Zouch knows I would perish rather than be his countess. I told him so myself. And oh! Meg, dear, I am so happy now, for I love John Manners so very, very much."
"'Tis a sad night's work for you", burst out Margaret. "What right have you, prithee, to make arrangements such as these? You are to be betrothed to a brother of Sir Thomas Stanley. Edward is coming from the Isle of Man within a month to arrange it all, and a nice affair have you made it with your forwardness."
"Edward Stanley?" echoed Doll, in blank dismay.
"Yes, surely."
"Never," she replied, decisively; "I will have none of him, nor could
I if I would. I am betrothed already."