Then Cousin _Bess_ looks up. Cousin _Bess_ was by, but not Aunt _Joyce_. "What manner of man, my lasses?" saith she. I left _Edith_ to make answer. "Why," saith she, "I reckon he might be ten years younger than _Father_, or may-be more: and--" "Oh, not a young man, then?" saith _Mother_, as though she were fain it so were. "Oh, nay," quoth _Edith_: "but well-favoured, and of a fair hair and beard." "And clad of a dark green velvet jerkin," saith Cousin _Bess_, "and tawny hose, with a rare white feather in 's velvet bonnet?" "That is he," saith _Edith_. "Good lack, then!" Cousin _Bess_ makes answer, "but he up to me only yester-morrow on the _Keswick_ road, as I come back from _Isaac's_. My word, but he doth desire for to see Sir _Aubrey_ some, for he asked at us all three if he were at home." "Was he a man thou shouldest feel to trust, _Bess_?" asks _Mother_. "Trust!" saith she. "I'd none trust yon dandified companion, not for to sell a sucking-pig." Dear heart, but what queer things doth she say at times! I would Cousin _Bess_ were somewhat more civiler. To think of a gentleman such as he is, a-selling of pigs! Yet I must say I was not o'er well pleased to hear of his complimenting of _Edith_: though, 'tis true, that was ere he had seen me. "What like is he, _Bess_?" saith _Mother_. "I would know the thought he gave to thee." "Marry, the first were that he was like to have no wife, or she should have amended a corner of his rare slashed sleeve, that was ravelling forth o' the stitching," saith she. "And the second were, that he were like the folk in this vicinage, with his golden hair and grey eyen. And the third, that he were not, for that his speech was not of these parts. And the fourth, that his satin slashed sleeves and his silver buckles of his shoes must have cost him a pretty penny. And the last, that I'd be fain to see the back of him." "Any more betwixt, _Cousin_?" saith _Edith_, laughing. "Eh, there was a cart-load betwixt," saith she. "I mattered him nought, I warrant you." "Well, neither did I, o'er much," saith _Edith_. Dear heart, thought I, but where were their eyes, both twain, that they saw not the lovesomeness and gentilesse of that my gallant _Protection_? But as for Cousin _Bess_, she never had no high fantasies. All her likings be what the _French_ call _bourgeois_. But I was something surprised that _Edith_ should make no count of him. I marvel if she meant the same. "Well, there must needs be some blunder," saith _Mother_, when we had sat silent a while: "for I never knew no man of that name, nor no gentleman of _Cornwall_, to boot." "May-be he minds you, _Mother_, though you knew not him," quoth _Edith_. "Soothly," saith she, "there were knights in the Court, whose names I knew not: but if they saw me so much as thrice, methinks that were all-- and never spake word unto me."