"Sudden, sir? Nay, it is not sudden. From the first moment I saw Mistress Mace--" "Thou loved'st her. Of course; the old story that has been poured into silly maidens' ears from the beginning of the world. Stop, sir, listen to me," he continued, as Sir Mark was about to speak. "I am not a learned theology man, like Master Peasegood or Father Brisdone, but, as you say, I'd wager my life that, when the serpent urged pretty little, innocent Mistress Eve to take the forbidden fruit, he gave her a lesson or two in the art of love, and upset her for the rest of her life." "Maybe he did," said Sir Mark, smiling; "but the serpent was insincere, and I am no serpent." "How do I know that, young man?" said the founder, laying his hand upon the other's breast. "I've been thinking a good deal about your visit lately, and I will tell you flat that I have kept you here as a scarecrow." "A scarecrow?" "Yes, to frighten off that marauding kite, Gil Carr, who was getting far too sweet upon my simple child." "Scarecrow! Serpent! Nay, Master Cobbe, I am neither," cried Sir Mark, whose eyes had rested upon Mace as her father spoke, and gained such an access of passion as they had lit bee-like on the honey-scented blossom that he was ready to speak out plainly now. "As I said before, how do I know that?" "Because I tell you now, as a gentleman of his Majesty King James's household, that I love Mistress Mace with all my heart." "And I tell thee flat again, Sir Mark, that, gentleman of his Majesty King James's household though you be, I would sooner believe the words as coming from some simple gentleman of our parts." "What am I to say to you, then?" said Sir Mark, excitedly. "Nothing at all," replied the founder, bluntly. "Of course you love the girl--everyone does who sees her; but what of that?" "What of that? Why, Master Cobbe, I would fain make her my dear wife." "Thy wife? My little Mace--my simple-hearted child, wife of a gay spark of a courtier--a knight of King James. Nonsense, man; nonsense! Trash!" "It does take thee by surprise, no doubt," said Sir Mark, with a little hauteur; "but it would not be the first time that a knight of my position had stooped to many a worthy yeoman's daughter." "Thou'rt a modest youth," said the founder, with a dry chuckle; "and I suppose it would be a great stoop for the hawk to come down from on high to pick up my little dove. And to keep up this style of language, good Sir Mark, I suppose thy hawk's nest is very well feathered--thou art rich?" "Well--no," said Sir Mark, hesitating; "not rich; but my position warrants my assuming to take a wife from the highest in the land." "So you come and pick my little tit," said the founder. "Well, and a very good taste, Sir Mark. She is, as you say, a beautiful girl, and she will have fifteen thousand pounds down on her wedding-day for portion." "Fifteen thousand pounds!" exclaimed Sir Mark.