"Nay, Master Manners, listen. Thou art to be a musician for the once, and must join the minstrels in the gallery."
"In the banqueting-room! Then I must seek a fresh disguise," he said. "Hey, Lettice, I would it were night already, the day will drag wearily enough for me, I trow; but I shall look for my reward to-night. Thou art sure of what thou hast told me, Lettice, for were she to refuse me after all, it were hard indeed!"
"Trust me, I am not like to be deceived; she wears her heart upon her sleeve. Unless she changes, I have told thee aright, but my lady never changes in her love. Ah, me, I shall lose my mistress soon, and I am sad to think of it."
"Nay, Lettice," interposed Manners, "thou shalt marry honest Will, and he shall be my chamberlain. Thou shalt be near Dorothy yet."
The maid's countenance flushed with joy at the prospect of such bliss.
"That were happiness, indeed," she cried, "for or! Master Manners, I love her; I cannot help it—who could? I love her dearly; to part from her—"
"Aye," interrupted Manners, "who could help it indeed. Tell her I shall see her, I shall be there."
"And if it be 'yes,' my mistress will drop her fan upon the floor," went on Lettice; "but if the answer is 'no' she will tie a black ribbon on it. Thou must watch well, but it will surely fall."
"Amen," said Manners. "Then I should be the happiest man on all the earth."
"But happen my lady will not be there," the maid went on.