"I am glad to know the manner of man you do prefer," said Romney, stiffly, and they went on in silence for several minutes, and Mistress Peggy quite at her ease nevertheless. Finally she broke the pause, saying, "Do you remember what night the last was?" "Surely I do, for I noted it on Governor Brent's order for Ingle's arrest posted on the tavern door. 'Twas the twentieth of January." "Ay, the twentieth; and what night was that?" "In truth I know not. Being no Papist I keep scant account of Saints' days." "Nor I either for the most part; but this was a very particular night indeed." Then, with great impressiveness, "_It was the Eve of St. Agnes._" "And what of that?" "Why, 'tis on that night every maid may see her future husband,--that is, if she have the wit to go about it the right way." "And did you go about it the right way?" Peggy nodded. "And after what fashion was that?" "Why, after dusk I went to my chamber as usual, and I took off my garter--you must, you know, or the charm will not work. It must be the left garter too, so I took it, and knit three knots in it, and then with my eyes shut I said the rhyme--" "What rhyme?" "Stupid! You don't seem to know anything. Why, this rhyme, of course,-- "'I knit this knot, this knot I knit To know the thing I know not yet-- That I may see The man that shall my husband be, Not in his best or worst array But what he weareth every day, That I to-morrow may him ken From among all other men.'" "And then did you see him?" "No, not yet. After I had said the charm I lay down and folded my hands like St. Agnes, and sure enough as soon as I fell asleep a young man appeared before me. There he stood, as large as life and as clear as day." "Yes," said Romney, eagerly; "and what like was he?" "Why, there's the queer thing," answered Peggy, "his mouth and his curls and his odd-shaped nose were the image of thine." "What is wrong with my nose? I have always thought well of it--" "Oh, 'tis a proper nose enough. No doubt an excellent and serviceable nose for all practical purposes; but for pure beauty it might be better without the little hump in the middle of the bridge, and with the nostrils set closer--but no matter! such as it is, the vision bore it too, and the eyes were like also and the brows. There was the whole face and figure, so like that any seeing them would have cried out, ''Tis Master Huntoon to the life.'" "Peggy!" "But--" "Nay, no buts--" "I must, for 'tis the strangest of all--_but_ his doublet was as like as two peas to the one Captain Cornwaleys wears this morning, and his figure was the captain's too, height and all. Now, what is a poor maid to do under such distracting confusions?" "Mistress Neville, you are a coquette." Peggy raised her eyebrows till they arched like a rainbow.