"Well, while I sat of the rock a-drawing, come up a gentleman to me," saith she, "and asked at me if _Louvaine_ were not my name. (Why, then, he knew us! thought I.) I said `Aye,' and he went on to ask me if _Father_ were at home, for he had list to have speech of him: and he said he knew you, _Mother_, of old time, when you were Mistress _Lettice_. I told him _Father_ was at home, and he desired to know what time should be the best to find him: when I told him the early morrow, for he was oft away in the afternoon. And then--" "Well, my lass?" saith _Mother_, for _Edith_ was at a point. "Well, _Mother_, methinks I had better tell you," saith she, a-looking up, "for I cannot be easy till I have so done, and I wis well you will not lay to my charge a thing that was no blame of mine. So--then he 'gan to speak of a fashion that little liked me, and I am assured should have liked you no better: commending my drawing, and mine hair, and mine eyes, and all such matter as that: till at the last I said unto him, `Sir, I pray you of pardon, but I am not used to such like talk, and in truth I know not what to answer. If your aim be to find favour with me, you were best hold your peace from such words.' For, see you, _Mother_, I thought he might have some petition unto _Father_, and might take a fantasy that I could win _Father_ to grant him, and so would the rather if he talked such matter as should flatter my foolish vanity. As though _Father_ should be one to be swayed by such a fantasy as that! But then, of course, he did not know _Father_. I trust I did not aught to your displeasance, _Mother_?" "So far as I can judge, dear child, thou didst very well," saith _Mother_: "and I am right glad thou wert thus discreet for thy years. But what said he in answer?" "Oh, he tarried not after that," quoth she: "he did only mutter somewhat that methought should be to ask pardon, and then went off in another minute." _Mother_ laid down her work with a glow in her eyes. "O _Edith_!" saith she: "I am so thankful thou art not,"--but all suddenly she shut up tight, and the glow went out of her _eyes_ and into her cheeks. I never know what that signifieth: and I have seen it to hap aforetime. But she took up her sewing again, and said no more, till she saith all at once right the thing which I desired her not to say. "Did this gentleman speak with thee, _Milly_?" I made my voice as cool and heedless as I could. "Well, _Mother_, I reckon it was the same that I saw leaning against a tree at the other side of the isle, which spake to me and asked me what the isle was called, and who Saint _Hubert_ were. He told me, the same as _Edith_, that he had known you aforetime." "Didst get a poem unto thy sweet eyes, _Milly_?" saith _Edith_, laughing. "Nay," said I, "mine eyes be not so sweet as thine." "Did he ask at thee if _Father_ were at home?" "Ay, he asked that." Herein told I no falsehood, for that day he said not a word touching mine eyes.