’So, Launcelot—or, I should say, Sir Launcelot—is it come to this? You see there is none so disdainful but in time their fall will come.’ ’Nay, Kate,’ I made answer, ’it was not I that was first disdainful, for do you mind who it was that told me certain truths in the Grieve’s house at Culzean?’ ’Ah Launce!’ said Kate Allison, ’own it now. Was not I a kind leech, to bite one I loved so healthily all for his good and for the cooling of his blood?’ ’Kate Allison,’ said I, ’thou wast ever a minx, a teasing rogue of rogues. But thy disdain might have gone near to costing me my life!’ ’Go to, Sir Want-wit,’ said she. ’Did not I know all the time that thy love for me was no more than a boy’s fondness for kissing comfits, and to be made of by a bonny lass? Why, even then thou wast fonder of Nell’s little finger than of my whole body.’ I knew that Kate spoke true—for, indeed, it was many months since I had so much as thought upon her. But this I told her not. The Lord knows how seldom she had thought upon me. But when they meet together, old sweethearts take pleasure thus in dallying with the past, when all wounds have been healed and no hearts broken. But she saw my eyes wandering, as I guess, every way about, and she must needs tease me concerning that also. ’Nay,’ she said, ’you will not see your posy, till she comes in to the minister and you. So e’en content ye for a little with an old married wife and the mother of a family. Ye shall have time and to spare with your bonny bride or all be done.’ ’Kate,’ I said, ’ye will be my friend as of yore.’ ’Ay, and hold my tongue,’ answered she quickly. ’That you did not always, then,’ said I, ’for there never was such an uncouth love-making in the world, as with your tell-tale tongue ye made mine. I dared not lay my lips to a tender word nor so much as seek a favour, as it might be innocently betwixt man and maid, but it was "That you said to Kate on such a night!" or "Think ye that I count so little on myself as to be content with Kate Allison’s cast-off sweet speeches."’ And the pretty besom laughed. For though a married wife, she was not a whit sobered, as one might see by her eyes. ’It served you greatly right,’ said she, ’but do me some justice. Did you ever hear of my telling of the night of the fair at Maybole, and of our home-coming by the woodland way?’ ’No,’ said I, curtly. For indeed I liked not that memory specially well, and wondered that she did. ’Then,’ said Kate Allison, ’rail no more against woman’s tongues. For they are moveable yard measures, and let out no more than likes them.’ At this moment they called to me from the great door, and Kate Allison waved me off with a gay ’Up and away, Sir Knight!’—which pleased me more from her than many a _Benedicite_ from another.