"Did I so?" Brilliana asked, puckering her brows as if in doubt, though she had not the least doubt upon the matter. "Indeed, madam," said Evander, very earnestly, "friends for a lifetime." Brilliana snapped contradiction. "No, no; it was you who said that. I admit the friendship for three days." "And I assert the friendship of a lifetime," Evander persisted. His voice and his eyes were very merry, but there came an unconquerable gnawing at his heart that, in spite of the fair place and the fair face and the sweet discourse, life for him meant no more than a space of three days. Well, then, he would live his three days bravely, brightly. He lifted his eyes to the lady. "Are you of Master Amiens' school?" he asked-- "'Most friendship is feigning, most love is mere folly.'" She made no reply to his question, but its matter surprised her and prompted her to another. "Do you go to Master Shakespeare's school?" she asked; and even as she spoke she leaned forward to look at the book he had laid down and to which, till that moment, she had paid no heed. She drew it towards her and saw what it was. "Why, here are his plays. Can you affect him when 'tis known that the King loves him?" "I would the King had no worse counsellors," Evander said, gravely. Brilliana had lifted the big book onto her lap and was turning the pages tenderly, pausing here and there with loving murmurs. "Had I been a man," she said, softly, "I should have turned player for the pleasure to speak such golden words." Evander, watching her fair, lowered face under its crown of dark hair, thought of all that Imogen might mean, or Rosalind or Juliet, did each of these dear ones show on the stage like this lady. He gave the odd thought form in speech. "It is strange," he said, almost to himself, "that a Cavalier world is content without women players." Brilliana lifted her face from the book, and there was a look of astonishment and even of pain upon it. "Oh, that is quite another matter," she said, quickly. "That could never come to pass." Evander's Puritanism, recalled to recollection of itself, felt compelled to assent. "I trust not," he said, gravely. He was looking at Brilliana with eyes that were honestly admiring. She rose from her seat. "I must dismiss you now," she said, "for I have much to do ere dinner. You will dine with me, I pray." Evander made her a not uncourtly bow. "If I be not unwelcome," he suggested. Brilliana shook her head very positively. "We are pledged friends for the time, and friends love to break bread together." There was no countering this argument. Evander took up the folio and made its owner another bow. "I will attend you at the dinner-hour," he said. "This treasure I restore to its home."