"Marry, then thou shalt. But I say not things are so; I only say what I fear. If the maid's heart be not rather given to Leofric Wyvill, the bachelor, than to the Lord Amalric, the Earl's son, then are mine eyes wofully at fault!" Sir Humphrey looked first astonished and then scornful. "Tush, woman!" he said impatiently; "the thing is impossible." Dame Margaret pursed her lips and said nothing. "It must not be!" cried the Constable, rather excitedly; "it must not and shall not be! The Earl is now the first man in all the realm. His sons will rise to be nobles themselves. It will be a great match for our little daughter, and she hath always been well disposed towards Lord Amalric." "True; yet is she not better disposed towards another?" "It shall not be!" cried the Constable once more. "I will put a stop to it at once. A daughter's hand is disposed of by her father. None shall dispute my right to give that of Alys where I will. The Lord Amalric has shown every disposition to ask it in marriage. And this I say and mean: if he ask it, he shall have it. The maid shall be a great lady yet, and I pray I may live to see the day." The mother said nothing, only pursed up her lips a little. In her heart she was thinking that a sudden elevation to great power had often been followed by as sudden a fall. What if that should happen to the house of De Montfort? CHAPTER XXV. _CHRISTMAS AT KENILWORTH._ "Alys! Alys! Alys!" cried a clear young voice from above. Alys, muffled to the very eyes in her furs, and stiff from the exposure of her long ride, had been almost lifted from her saddle by strong arms, and carried within the hospitable portals of the grim-looking fortress. She was dazed with the change from snowy darkness to the blaze of light, confused by the number of strange voices and faces around her, and not even reassured by the welcome of Amalric, who was seeking to win from her one of the smiles that had become so much to him. "Alys! Alys! Alys!" The call was repeated in clear, imperious tones of bell-like sweetness; and Alys, lifting her eyes to see whence they came, saw the laughing face of the Demoiselle looking over at her from the dimness of the gallery above. "Amalric, bring her hither to me; she is my lawful prey--my prisoner! Don't keep her standing down there in that crowd! I am waiting for her here. Bring her to me; I will warm her and make her happy. You clumsy men never understand how to do that!"