“Fie,” smiled she, “I am not so ungrateful. Shall I not regret my friends, my neighbours, good Mistress Rockhurst, and yourself?” The boy drew back and straightened himself, galled to the quick. “My aunt—and me! Truly, I am, madam, I am proud.” He flung himself away, his shoulder turned ostentatiously on Diana. She laughed with indulgence; then sighed. And, in heart-broken fashion, Harry caught up the sigh. * * * * * (“First stage, sighs,” reflected the watcher. “’Tis most harmless.”) * * * * * Young Rockhurst’s dudgeon was not of long duration. He edged along the wall to the bench and bashfully took seat. “So ends the year,” he said softly, “that brought me the happiness of paradise—Diana.” “Master Rockhurst.…” “Must it end thus?” Suddenly bold, he tried to take the fair hand idly clasping the posy. “Take care, sir,” she cried mischievously, “there are thorns here.” “Ah,” he breathed, “so that I might gather the roses.…” * * * * * (And above their heads, Lionel Ratcliffe: “Second stage: hand-clasps and protestations. Next will come kneeling work, and next the lips.—Wary now, for it goes rapidly!”) * * * * * “Pray you, pray you, Harry!” Diana chid, endeavouring gently to free her hand. But the boy had slipped the leash of his ardour and was not to be hushed. “O my sweet life, hear me, hear me!” “I vow,” she said, half rebuking, “I never knew you in this mood!” “Ah, I am bold,” he panted. “Must I not be bold indeed for that I dare to love you!” Saying which, he fell on both knees before her. * * * * * (“Is’t not time to stop them?” whispered Hare into Ratcliffe’s ear. “I could drop a little stone on sister Di’s head.” “Soft,” interposed the other, with his contemptuous patience. “Let the children play a little while longer; ’twill be the finer sport to slip in ’twixt cup and lip!”) In truth, Ratcliffe was beginning to suspect that he had overrated Harry Rockhurst’s influence. If he knew women, his fair cousin, below yonder, had given no real response. He had caught the note of indulgence which the wooer himself was too inexperienced to mark in her accents. True, there might lurk some danger even in this; yet not such as to call for indiscreet interference. He smiled sardonically as the lover’s pleading rose passionately in the air. * * * * * “Give me hope, Diana—one word. Ah, madam, give me hope!” But Mistress Harcourt rose and disengaged herself with some decision from the young man’s grasp. “Stay, Master Rockhurst, how can I listen to you? In truth, dear lad, you are over young to dream of such matters yet. Why, and what would my Lord Rockhurst say, could he but hear? Indeed, Harry, ’tis undutiful of you, without your noble father’s sanction—I dare swear without even his knowledge.”