"Oh, what's the matter?" Lord Thomas said, "I think you look pale and wan: You used to have as fine a colour As ever the sun shone on." "What, are you blind, now, Thomas? Or can't you very well see? Oh, can't you see, and oh, can't you see my own heart's blood Run trickling down to my knee?" Then Lord Thomas, he took the brown girl by the hand, And led her across the hall; And he took his own bride's head off her shoulders, And dashed it against the wall. Then Lord Thomas, he put the sword to the ground, The point against his heart: So there was an end of those three lovers, So sadly they did part! * * * * * Upon fair Ellenor's grave grew a rose, And upon Lord Thomas's a briar: And there they twixed and there they twined, till they came to the steeple-top; That all the world might plainly see, true love is never forgot. "Oh, how delightful these old ballads are!" cried Anne, as Mrs. Sanker finished. "Delightful!" retorted Julia Podd. "Why, they are full of queer phrases and outrageous metre and grammar!" "My dears, it is, I suppose, how people wrote and spoke in those old days," said Mrs. Sanker, who had given great force to every turn of the song, and seemed to feel its disasters as much as though she had been fair Ellen herself. "Just so," put in Mr. Angerstyne. "The world was not full of learning then, as it is now, and we accept the language--ay and like it, too--as that of a past day. To me, these old ballads are wonderful: every one has a life's romance in it." And that day at Holt Fleet, the only time I, Johnny Ludlow, ever saw the place, lives in my memory as a romance now. * * * * * As the days went on, there could be no mistake made by the one or two of us who kept our eyes open. I mean, as to Mr. Angerstyne's liking for Anne Lewis, and the reciprocal feelings he had awakened. With her, it had been a case of love at first sight; or nearly so. And that, if you may believe the learned in the matter, is the only love deserving the name. Perhaps it had been so with him: I don't know. Three parts of their time they talked together in French, for Mr. Angerstyne spoke it well. And that vexed Julia and Fanny Podd; who called themselves good French scholars, but who somehow failed to understand. "They talk so fast; they do it on purpose," grumbled Fanny. At German Mr. Angerstyne was not apt. He spoke it a very little, and Anne would laughingly correct his mistakes, and repeat the German words slowly over, that he might catch the accent, causing us no end of fun. That was Anne's time of day, as Fanny Podd expressed it; but when it came to the musical evenings, Anne was nowhere. The other two shone like stars then, and did their best to monopolize Mr. Angerstyne.