Sir Harry answered in the negative, and only begged leave to remain there for a while with his friend, as he expected a messenger speedily. Casting himself down on a chest in the window, Seymour gave himself up to his melancholy thoughts, while Sir Harry West stood in the door-way, watching against accident or surprise. We need not picture to the reader the state of mind of the disappointed lover as he sat there, with memory brooding over his broken hopes, and imagination darkening the future. One half hour passed by after another, and no one appeared, till at length the keeper himself came in, and instantly recognised the old knight and his young companion, both of whom he had previously seen. "Which way did you come, Harding?" demanded Sir Harry. "I came across the horse road from the water, sir," replied the man, "and should have been here before; but I just stopped for a minute, to give a clout on the head to one of those courtier fellows, who was teasing Lady Arabella's gentlewoman." "Ha," cried Sir Harry West, with a look of immediate interest, "what gentlewoman was that?" "She they call the Signora," answered the man, "and a nice young lady she is, though she do speak English with a queer outlandish twang." "Where was this?" exclaimed the old knight, with his eyes sparkling with unwonted fire. "By Heaven! I will crop his ears for him, if he be one of the best of them." "No need of that, sir," answered the man, "he's but a poor creature, and can't do any one much harm. I saw him run after the young lady from the lower terrace, and thought not much about it; but taking across the covert, to see after the game as I went, I came upon him a quarter of a mile up there, teasing her sadly. So I told him to let her alone; upon which he called me clown; and I gave him a touch--just a little touch,--with the flat of my hand upon the side of his head, when down he went like a ninepin. He got up again, however, and went off towards the house; so after that I said good day, ma'am, and came away--I hate those courtiers." "So do I," replied the knight; "but this shows us, Seymour, that some of them are there still. So we must even share your pottage with you, Harding, for neither Mr. Seymour nor I will go, while they are there." "Right welcome, sir, right welcome," replied the keeper; "this being Thursday, we always make plenty, to last till the end of the week." As he spoke, a hand was laid upon the latch, and the next instant Ida Mara entered. As soon as she saw the old knight, who advanced to meet her, she put her hand in his with a look of deep and grateful affection, saying, "I have been stopped and troubled, sir, or I would have been here half an hour ago.--The Countess has sent me to tell you, that they are not gone. They stay over the noon meal. As soon as they are away, she will send to you." As she spoke, she made a low inclination of the head to Seymour, but addressed herself to Sir Harry West.