"Good even to you, pretty maiden!" said the cavalier, approaching the stall of the orange-woman with the easy, confident air of one secure of a ready welcome, and bending down on the yet prayerful maiden the glances of a pair of piercing hazel eyes that looked out on each side of his aquiline nose with the keenness of a falcon's. "Good even to you, pretty one! We shall take you for a saint, and worship you in right earnest, if you raise not those eyelashes soon." "Sir! my lord!" said the girl,--a bright color flushing into her smooth brown cheeks, and her large dreamy eyes suddenly upraised with a flutter, as of a bird about to take flight. "Agnes, bethink yourself!" said the white-haired dame; "the gentleman asks the price of your oranges; be alive, child!" "Ah, my lord," said the young girl, "here are a dozen fine ones." "Well, you shall give them me, pretty one," said the young man, throwing a gold piece down on the stand with a careless ring. "Here, Agnes, run to the stall of Raphael the poulterer for change," said the adroit dame, picking up the gold. "Nay, good mother, by your leave," said the unabashed cavalier; "I make my change with youth and beauty thus!" And with the word he stooped down and kissed the fair forehead between the eyes. "For shame, sir!" said the elderly woman, raising her distaff,--her great glittering eyes flashing beneath her silver hair like tongues of lightning from a white cloud. "Have a care!--this child is named for blessed Saint Agnes, and is under her protection." "The saints must pray for us, when their beauty makes us forget ourselves," said the young cavalier, with a smile. "Look me in the face, little one," he added; "say, wilt thou pray for me?" The maiden raised her large serious eyes, and surveyed the haughty, handsome face with that look of sober inquiry which one sometimes sees in young children, and the blush slowly faded from her cheek, as a cloud fades after sunset. "Yes, my lord," she answered, with a grave simplicity, "I will pray for you." "And hang this upon the shrine of Saint Agnes for my sake," he added, drawing from his finger a diamond ring, which he dropped into her hand; and before mother or daughter could add another word or recover from their surprise, he had thrown the corner of his mantle over his shoulder and was off down the narrow street, humming the refrain of a gay song. "You have struck a pretty dove with that bolt," said another cavalier, who appeared to have been observing the proceeding, and now, stepping forward, joined him. "Like enough," said the first, carelessly. "The old woman keeps her mewed up like a singing-bird," said the second; "and if a fellow wants speech of her, it's as much as his crown is worth; for Dame Elsie has a strong arm, and her distaff is known to be heavy." "Upon my word," said the first cavalier, stopping and throwing a glance backward, "where do they keep her?"