Dagville's Inn presented a lively appearance. Its porch and bar were crowded with guests, and a dark-faced man, who spoke with the accent of a foreigner, was busy serving the guests, as was also a youth with a tousle of frizzy hair and a pair of shifty black eyes, who bore a strong resemblance to mine host, but looked a great deal more crafty and cruel. Leofric observed his face as he passed in, and noted that he gave an ugly scowl at sight of them. It seemed plain that he had no liking for Hugh, although what was the cause of the grudge he bore him it was less easy to decide. Hugh pushed his way through the lower room, his guests following; and after mounting to the upper floor, they found themselves in a pleasant room, not unlike that in which they had seen the Seaton family assembled on their first arrival at the city. Its window, which was large and latticed, though the lattice stood wide open to the mild evening air, looked upon the High Street; and upon the window seat lay a lute, and a piece of fine embroidery work such as was seldom seen save in the nunneries or in the houses of fine ladies. A table in the centre of the room was set for supper, but the apartment itself was empty, and Leofric took up the lute gently, and fingered it with loving touches. But the next moment he put it hastily down, for the door opened, and a pleasant-looking motherly woman came in bearing a smoking dish, and she was followed by two maidens, each with a dish in her hands. Hugh stepped forward to relieve one daughter of her load, and Jack did the same by the second. Leofric, who was more shy by nature, stood where he was in the window, looking in a sort of amaze from one girl to the other. Both were dressed exactly alike, in a semi-Italian fashion which he thought most bewitching; but it was the beauty of the two faces, and their extraordinary similarity, which confused and bewildered him. No wonder Hugh had said it was hard to tell one sister from the other; he marvelled that any should learn to know them apart. To his eyes the faces seemed identical, the same rich colouring, the same dark velvet-soft eyes, the same flashing smile and finely-pencilled brows. Hugh made him known to the sisters, who were girls of about his own age, albeit their southern blood made them appear older than their age. He called one Lotta and one Linda, and asked Leofric if he thought they would do as models for him. The young artist blushed to the roots of his hair, and knew not what to say; but one of the maidens laughed merrily, and looked archly into his face. "Methinks if he wants an angel-model, he had best take his own portrait," she said, in clear musical tones; whilst the other sister added in a voice of precisely the same character,-- "Or seek to get a glimpse of lovely Mistress Alys at the Castle. Methinks she has the fairest face of any maid in the city."