“You English are a hardy folk who take the spring air so early. Well, in such company I would do the same. Truly she is a beauteous maiden. I have some experience of the sex, but never do I remember one so fair.” “My cousin is well enough,” answered Peter coldly, for this Spaniard’s very evident admiration of Margaret did not please him. “Yes,” answered d’Aguilar, taking no notice of his tone, “she is well enough to fill the place, not of a merchant’s daughter, but of a great lady—a countess reigning over towns and lands, or a queen even; the royal robes and ornaments would become that carriage and that brow.” “My cousin seeks no such state who is happy in her quiet lot,” answered Peter again; then added quickly, “See, here comes Master Castell seeking you.” d’Aguilar advanced and greeted the merchant courteously, noticing as he did so that, notwithstanding his efforts to appear unconcerned, Castell seemed ill at ease. “I am an early visitor,” he said, “but I knew that you business folk rise with the lark, and I wished to catch our friend here before he went out,” and he repeated to him the reason of his coming. “I thank you, Señor,” answered Castell. “You are very good to me and mine. I am sorry that you have been kept waiting. They tell me that you looked for me in the chapel, but I was not there, who had already left it for my office.” “So I found. It is a quaint place, that old chapel of yours, and while I waited I went to the altar and told my beads there, which I had no time to do before I left my lodgings.” Castell started almost imperceptibly, and glanced at d’Aguilar with his quick eyes, then turned the subject and asked if he would not breakfast with them. He declined, however, saying that he must be about their business and his own, then promptly proposed that he should come to supper on the following night that was—Sunday—and make report how things had gone, a suggestion that Castell could not but accept. So he bowed and smiled himself out of the house, and walked thoughtfully into Holborn, for it had pleased him to pay this visit on foot, and unattended. At the corner whom should he meet again but the tall, fair-haired Betty, returning from some errand which she had found it convenient to fulfil just then. “What,” he said, “you once more! The saints are very kind to me this morning. Come, Señora, walk a little way with me, for I would ask you a few questions.” Betty hesitated, then gave way. It was seldom that she found the chance of walking through Holborn with such a noble-looking cavalier. “Never look at your working-dress,” he said. “With such a shape, what matters the robe that covers it?”—a compliment at which Betty blushed, for she was proud of her fine figure.