"Heaven grant it may be so," replied Manners, fervently; "but what did my Dorothy bid thee say? Thy words have made a sore commotion in my heart, fair Lettice."
Lettice hung down her head and blushed at the unexpected compliment.
"Thou art to come to the feast to-night," she replied, "and my lady will give thee answer there."
"I shall be there, Lettice," he promptly returned. "Tell her I shall not fail her. But how shall I see her, has she thought of that?"
"We have arranged it all, good sir; thou hast but to do her bidding, and all will go well."
She did not say that Dorothy had been too distracted in mind to make any arrangements whatever, but, as a matter of fact, this duty had devolved entirely upon the maid, for her mistress had done little more than nod assent through her tears to all the propositions of her companion. It was the ready wit of Lettice which had proposed everything at just the time when Dorothy was quite unable to suggest anything for herself.
"The wedding ceremony will take place in four more days," Lettice continued, "and the feasting begins to-night."
Manners was aware of the fact, and he bowed his head in silent acquiescence.
"And thou art to come to the Hall," pursued the maid. "Thou art skilful on the lute, my mistress says."
"I can play the lute," he answered, "but what of that? Will she pipe me an answer back?"