And she spoke, for from the hair that crowned her to the feet that carried her she was as brave as any Cavalier that ever swung sword for the King, and she said, "Well indeed, cousin, for thee." He said, "How dost thou mean for me?" Then stooped she and gathered a handful of grass, and held it aloft and opened her hand, palm downward, that the falling blades were blown this way and that by the wind. "I mean," quoth she, "that Rowland Nasmyth is no more to Patience than--I am to thee." And she laughed a little. He came closer to her, and laid his arm about her shoulders, drawing her to him, and he said, "Nay, thou knowest how dear thou art to me, comrade; but thou meanest in different wise--is't so?" She said, "Yea; but call me Marian to-day. It is to my whim." He answered, "Dear Marian," and would have kissed her cheek, but she started up with a little cry, saying, "By'r lay'kin! there was a honey-bee tangled in my locks." And when he had sought for the bee to kill it with his hat, but could not find it, they did seat themselves again, he laughing and saying that "the bee was a bee o' much discretion and wondrous good taste." That night when I crept to my little ladies to see that all was quiet, I, pausing in the door-way, did note them as they lay--my little lady with her head on Mistress Marian's breast, and a smile on her lips, and Mistress Marian with her arms wrapped close about her, and her dark hair swept out over the pillow, and thence to the floor, like a stream o' water that reflects a black cloud, but her eyes wide open, looking straight forward, as though at a ghost. And I stole off and sobbed myself to sleep, but not before I had awakened Jock, who did grunt, after the uncourteous, pig-like manner of a suddenly wakened man, be-thump his pillow as though 't had been an anvil, and in turning over, twist the bedclothes half off of me, so that what with the cold (it being then the fall o' th' year), and what with my distress, I slept but uneasily. And the next thing I knew o' th' matter, there was a wedding, and my little lady wedded to Lord Ernle, and Mistress Marian her bridemaid. Surely if the good God e'er sent happiness on earth, He did send it to my little lady and to his lordship. 'Twas at this time that Sir Rowland asked Mistress Marian to be his spouse. And 'twas even i' th' same spot where Lord Ernle had discovered his love for my little lady, that he asked her. Again it was as though some one had smitten her--her face deadly white and the red line across her brow. She put out one hand to keep him from her, and let it rest on his shoulder, and she said, "Rowland, I love thee well, but no man will ever call me wife." He said, "Is this the end?" She said, "Though we should both live to see the last day, it is the end." Then he went, with his head bowed down. And when he was gone, for the first time in all her life she wept aloud. * * * * *