“Then the matter being settled—for the present let us to the witch, hand in hand like good friends.” “No!” “Yes!” “Leave me, sir!” “Give me thy hand.” “Oh—I hate you!” she cried passionately. “Good!” he nodded placidly. “’Tis better than indifference. Thy hand, Rose.” For answer she turned away, silently contemptuous, and began to retrace her steps; but he caught her wrist and checked her suddenly, whereupon she struck viciously at him, knocking off his hat, then her other hand was ’prisoned also in so tense a grip that, knowing it vain to struggle, she disdained further effort and faced him, coldly defiant. “Coward, you hurt me!” “Madam, you behave like a peevish hoyden! Such tricks may pass with your hysterical fine ladies but, while in Sussex, I suggest you ape the dignified calm o’ Rusticity.” “Will you loose me?” “Are you done with your fishwifely tantrums?” My lady held herself pridefully, glared furiously, then suddenly bit her lip, bowed her head, and something bright and sparkling fell upon his hand; at this he loosed her suddenly and she as suddenly turned her back upon him. Sir John picked up his hat, knocked the dust from it, put it on, and stood regarding her pensively. “Rose,” said he at last, “dear child, suffer me to take thy hand.” Then he reached and clasped her unresisting fingers; and thus, hand in hand, they went on down the lane together. CHAPTER XXVIII TELLETH HOW MY LADY ADOPTED A FAIRY GODMOTHER High Dering, drowsing in the sun, opened a door here and there to stare in idle wonderment as Sir John handed his companion in at Dame Haryott’s garden wicket, for visitors were rare, more especially such visitors as these who bowed and curtsied to each other with such courtly, albeit frigid, ceremony; so High Dering opened its doors a little wider and became a trifle more awake as Sir John knocked. And, after some while, chains rattled, bolts creaked, the heavy door opened, and old Penelope stood peering at them from the dim interior. “Good-day, Mrs. Penelope,” said Sir John, removing his hat and saluting her in his easy, unaffected manner. “You desired to see me, I think?” “Aye, I did,” she answered ungraciously, “but not along of a tattlin’ wench.” My lady stared and flushed angrily. “I will go!” said she, and drawing herself to her noble height, turned away, supremely disdainful as an outraged goddess; but old Penelope, who knew little of goddesses and cared less, was no whit abashed. “Hoity-toity!” quoth she; “bide a bit, wench!” and my Lady Herminia found her stately progress checked by the crook of old Penelope’s stick that had hooked itself suddenly about her arm. My lady turned and, amazed beyond speech, viewed the audacious old creature from head to foot until, meeting the fierce old eyes, her gaze paused there and thus, for a long moment, they stared at each other, the old woman and the young, while Sir John wisely held his peace.