“I am sure my cousin hath no good looks to be proud of!” the admirable Fatima exclaimed, bridling up. “Not that I care for my Lord of Barbazure's looks. MY heart, dearest mother, is with him who is far away!” “He danced with thee four galliards, nine quadrilles, and twenty-three corantoes, I think, child,” the mother said, eluding her daughter's remark. “Twenty-five,” said lovely Fatima, casting her beautiful eyes to the ground. “Heigh-ho! but Romane danced them very well!” “He had not the court air,” the mother suggested. “I don't wish to deny the beauty of the Lord of Burbazure's dancing, mamma,” Fatima replied. “For a short, lusty man, 'tis wondrous how active he is; and in dignity the King's Grace himself could not surpass him.” “You were the noblest couple in the room, love,” the lady cried. “That pea-green doublet, slashed with orange-tawny, those ostrich plumes, blue, red, and yellow, those party-colored hose and pink shoon, became the noble baron wondrous well,” Fatima acknowledged. “It must be confessed that, though middle-aged, he hath all the agility of youth. But alas, madam! The noble baron hath had nine wives already.” “And your cousin would give her eyes to become the tenth,” the mother replied. “My cousin give her eyes!” Fatima exclaimed. “It's not much, I'm sure, for she squints abominably.” And thus the ladies prattled, as they rode home at night after the great ball at the house of the Baron of Barbazure. The gentle reader, who has overheard their talk, will understand the doubts which pervaded the mind of the lovely Fatima, and the well-nurtured English maiden will participate in the divided feelings which rent her bosom. 'Tis true, that on his departure for the holy wars, Romane and Fatima were plighted to each other; but the folly of long engagements is proverbial; and though for many months the faithful and affectionate girl had looked in vain for news from him, her admirable parents had long spoken with repugnance of a match which must bring inevitable poverty to both parties. They had suffered, 'tis true, the engagement to subside, hostile as they ever were to it; but when on the death of the ninth lady of Barbazure, the noble baron remarked Fatima at the funeral, and rode home with her after the ceremony, her prudent parents saw how much wiser, better, happier for their child it would be to have for life a partner like the baron, than to wait the doubtful return of the penniless wanderer to whom she was plighted.