Oh, I cannot understand! If this is heresy and wickedness, wherein lies the difference from truth and holiness? I must ask Lady Judith. Oh dear, why _will_ people?—I do think it is too bad. I never thought of such a thing. If it had been Amaury, now,—But that Guy, of all people in all this world— Come, I had better tell my story straight. I was coming down the long gallery after dinner, to the bower of the Lady Queen, where I meant to go on with my embroidery, and I thought I might perhaps get a quiet talk with Lady Judith. All at once I felt myself pulled back by one of my sleeves, and I guessed directly who had caught me. "Why, Guyon! I have not seen thee for an age!" "And I want to see thee for a small age," answered he, laughing. "How many weddings are there to be next week, Lynette?" "Why, three," said I. "Thou wist as well as I." "What wouldst thou say to four?" "Wish them good fortune, so I am not the bride." "Ah, but suppose thou wert?" "Cry my eyes out, I think." Hitherto Guy had spoken as if he were jesting. Now he changed his tone. "Seriously, Elaine, I am thinking of it. Thou knowest thou camest hither for that object." "_I_ came hither for that!" cried I in hot indignation. "Thou wert sent hither, then," answered Guy, half laughing at my tone. "Do not be so hot, little one. Monseigneur expects it, I can assure thee." "Art thou going to wed me against my will? O Guy! I never thought it of thee!" exclaimed I pitifully. For that was the bitterest drop—that Guy should be willing to part with me. "No, no, my darling Lynette!" said Guy, taking my hands in his. "Thou shalt not be wed against thy will, I do assure thee. If thou dost not like the knight I had chosen, I will never force him upon thee. But it would be an excellent match,—and of course I should be glad to see thee comfortably settled. Thou mightest guess that." Might I! That is just what I never should have guessed. Do men ever understand women? "’Settled,’ Guy!" I said. "What dost thou mean by ’settled’? What is there about me that is unsettled?" "Now, that is one of thy queer notions," answered Guy. "Of course, no woman is considered settled till she marries." "I should think it was just the most unsettling thing in the world," said I. "Lynette, thou wert born in the wrong age!" said Guy. "I do not know in what age thou wert born, but certainly not this." "And thou wouldst be glad to lose me, Guy!" "Nay, not glad to lose thee, little one"—I think Guy saw that had hurt me—"but glad for thine own sake. Why, Lynette, crying? For what, dear foolish child?" I could hardly have told him. Only the world had gone dark and dreary. I know he never meant to be unkind. Oh no! I suppose people don’t, generally. They do not find out that they have hurt you, unless you scream. Nor perhaps then, if they are making a noise themselves.