"That any man should dare fancy it of me--there, there, let be, let me pass, let me go!" "Nay, then, I'll not let thee go. I'm but a rude bungler in these women-ways, and I've said or done somewhat that wounds thee sorely, and I'll not let thee go till 't is all outsaid and I have once more cleared myself of at least willful offense toward thee." "Wilt keep me by force, sir?" "Ay maid I will, for 't is only in bodily strength that I'm thy match, and so for the moment I will e'en use it. Sit thee here now and listen yet again, as I say, Why may not we two wed, cousin Barbara? Thou 'rt not mine own cousin, thou knowest, child; 't was thy father and mine were in that bond; and--now bear with me, Barbara--I've a shrewd suspicion that my mother bade thee be not a sister but a wife to me. Truth now, did she not, maid?" "She could not guide either my love or thine, so why would she try?" "Nay, that's no answer, lass, but we'll let the question go. There's not a woman alive, Barbara, so dear to me as thou; there's none I hold in greater reverence or trust; there's none with whom I would so gladly live out my days, and--though now I risk thy scorn,--there's none whose lineage I so respect"-- "What, the Henley lineage?" murmured Barbara, with face averted to hide a smile. "Nay, thou 'rt all Standish, Barbara! Thou 'rt more Standish than I, for thou hast the eyes of those old portraits my poor father vainly tried to wrest from his cousin Alexander. Let me look at those eyes, Barbara!" "And so because it suits thy convenience to make me thy wife, thou takst no heed of mine own fancies," said Barbara, not heeding this request. "And I pray thee unhand me, for I promise to patiently abide till thou hast said thy say." "Now there again thou dost me wrong, lass, for as I told thee t' other day there's no bachelor here fit to wed with thee, there's none I'd give thee to, nor would I see thee wither away unwed." "Gramercy cousin, but methinks that is a question I well might settle for myself." "Why nay, sith there is no gentleman unwed among our company, save Allerton, whom I love as little as thou dost." "I care not for any"-- "I know it, Barbara, I know it well. Thou 'rt that rare marvel, a woman sufficing unto herself, for as I believe, thou hast never fancied any man, though more than one hath fancied thee." "'T is my cold heart," murmured Barbara with a little smile strangled in its birth. "Nay," replied her cousin thoughtfully as he pulled at his moustache and gazed upon the ground at his feet. "Nay, I call thee not so much heartless as fancy-free. Thou 'rt kind and gentle, ay, and loving as my dear mother knew. I'm well content with thy heart for such as it is, Barbara, if thou 'lt but give it me." "Nay, Myles, I'm deadly sure I've none to give, and out of nothing nothing comes." "Thou ne'er canst love me, Barbara?" "No more than I love thee now, Myles." "With calm cousin-love thou meanest?"