"What would Sir Thomas Stanley say if he knew Sir Everard were out courting with Meg?" wickedly suggested Dorothy. "Would he not be in a towering rage?"
"There would be another tournament, maybe," laughed Manners, not noticing the tender tone in which his fair companion had addressed him.
"Poor De la Zouch will remember his attempt to provide amusement for us for some time yet, I fear," she continued coquettishly. As her previous efforts had led to nothing, she had started afresh in another vein, mentally resolving that her companion was wretchedly slow in responding to her advances.
"I fear he will," he replied; "but he is improving, I hear. Sir
Benedict seems to understand his case."
"He is like to be scarred for life, though," Dorothy returned. "Poor
Sir Henry."
"You are sorry for him," exclaimed Manners, who felt a little piqued at the tone of Dorothy's reply, as, indeed, she intended he should be.
"Yes," she said, "I am; very sorry."
Manners bit his lip with annoyance, and made a foolish remark.
"Ha, he was your lover, perchance?" he said.
Dorothy flushed up hotly at the taunt. Manners saw it, and would have done much to have recalled his hasty words, but they were gone.