"Thou hast begun well, Edgar," remarked Sir John, when Edgar’s final visit was drawing to a close. "Thou must go on and win fame, for I believe that this campaign will be filled with deeds which will add much to the honour and glory of England’s name. I would that I might fling my sword into the conflict and strike a few more blows for my beloved country. But no--thou must represent me for the nonce." Edgar bowed slightly. "As for Beatrice here," went on Sir John, turning suddenly towards his ward, "she must home with me. I fear she is getting wayward and headstrong, and if I am to keep close watch upon every gallant who dreams of the revenue of her lands, my task will be no light one. Fortunately for me, I have the bestowal of her hand in marriage, and, with no little relief, I have decided to find a suitable husband for her. ’Twill lighten my responsibilities, and her lands need a good sword to defend them in these troublous times. I have for some time had in mind a knight of good descent and of staid demeanour, and I shall now bring matters to a head." "But, Sir John----" stammered Beatrice in hot amaze. "Be silent, maid!" cried Sir John angrily. "Wouldst dare to oppose thy wishes against the considered judgment of thy guardian?" But Beatrice stood her ground rebelliously, tossing her pretty head in unmistakable anger and defiance. Nevertheless, Sir John showed no sign of relenting, and, not daring to oppose him openly, at last she turned with a look of appeal to Edgar, who was staring at the floor with an air that betokened no little disturbance of mind. His glance met hers, and it was clear to her that he knew as little of Sir John’s plans as she. "Who is this knight, then?" she cried in a stifled voice, turning again towards Sir John. "He is a knight of some fame. One, moreover, of sober and godly habits." "But who is he?" "Think not that I will allow thee to question my----" "Torture me not, Sir John!" cried Beatrice vehemently. "Who is he?" "’Tis Sir Edgar Wintour, Beatrice." "_Oh!_" "Darest thou oppose my will, Beatrice?" Beatrice was flushed, and looked as though she hardly knew which way to turn. Edgar was staring at Sir John as if he thought his ears had played him a trick. For some moments there was silence, and then Sir John repeated his question, for Beatrice had turned away and was toying with her brooch. "Dost oppose my will, Beatrice?" "It would grieve me to disobey thee, Sir John," she said at length, in a tone of dutiful submission. "He will make thee a good husband," replied Sir John, smiling in a way that made Beatrice inwardly furious. "What dost think of my choice, girl?" Beatrice subdued her resentment as best she could, and replied demurely: "Mayhap he is better than De Maupas." "De Maupas! Canst say no more than that, Beatrice?" cried Edgar, breaking in impetuously.