And then strolled in Messire Amaury, with his hands in the pockets of his haut-de chausses, talking to Messire de Montluc. "But the strangest thing, you know"—that sagacious youth was observing—"the strangest thing—O Elaine, is that thee!—the strangest thing is that a mere simple, ignorant woman could have formed and carried out such a project. Surely some man must have given her the idea! I can hardly—Oh, _pure foy_!" The last exclamation was due to a smart and sudden application of my right hand to the left ear of my respected brother. Messire de Montluc was convulsed with laughter. "Well done, Damoiselle Elaine! You regard the honour of your sex." "The next time thou speakest contemptuously of women," said I, "look first whether any overhear thee." "Trust me, I will make sure of my sister Elaine," said Amaury, still rubbing his ear. "On my word, Lynette, thou art a spitfire!" One after another kept coming, and all expressing pleasure in seeing me. I could not help wondering whether all of them would have been quite so pleased to see Elaine de Lusignan, if she had not been the King’s sister. Lady Judith and Eschine would, I believed. Nor do I think it would have made the least difference to Agnes. Considerations of that kind do not begin to affect us till we are over three years old. But time wore on, and Sybil was not released from her regal duties; and the strain which both body and mind had had to sustain told upon me, and I began to feel very tired. Lady Judith noticed it. "Dear Helena," she said, "do put that white face to bed. Sybil will come to thee." "I have no right to ask it of her," I said huskily. "Dost thou think she will wait till thou hast?" I was beginning to remonstrate that it would not be respectful, when Lady Judith put her arm round me, and said laughingly—"Sir Amaury, help me to carry this wilful child to bed." "Fair Mother, I dare not for all the gold in Palestine," said my slanderous brother. "My ear has not done stinging yet." "Am I wilful?" said I. "Well, then I will do as I am told.—As to thee, Amaury, thou hast just thy desert." "Then I am a very ill-deserving man," responded he. Lady Judith and Eschine both came with me to my chamber, and the latter helped me to undress. I had but just doffed my super-tunic, however, when a slight sound made me turn round towards the door, and I saw Sybil,—Sybil, still in her coronation robes, coming towards me with both hands held out, as she had done that last sad time we met. I threw myself on the ground before her, and tried to kiss the hem of her golden robe. But she would not let me. "No, no, my darling, no!" And she stooped and drew me into her arms, and kissed me as if we had never disagreed,—as if I had never uttered one of those bitter words which it now made my cheeks burn even to remember. I could only sob out,—"Forgive me!" "Dear little sister, forgive thee for loving Guy?"