"It comes down the hill," answered Iola. "They have got farther on than we have; but yet we shall beat them, I trust; for the many are ever outwitted by the few, I hear, though, good sooth, I know nothing of life, and but repeat such sage sayings as an old nurse's songs, without being sure if they be to the right tune or not.--Oh, prudery," she continued gaily, "what would the dear nuns, and sister Bridget especially, say, if they could hear me thus chattering with a young lord, in a dark wood, when there is so much sad and sober earnest going on near?--You too, perhaps, think it strange; but I have had so little practice in concealing what I think, that my foolishness ever rushes to my lips before my slow wit can start forth to stop it." "Nay, I think no such thing," replied Lord Chartley, "for, by my faith, the case is much the same with me. Besides, did we not make a bargain at supper time, that the casket was not to be closed, but all the jewels of the heart were to be left unveiled?" "True," she answered. "It was a rash promise; but like all promises, I suppose, it must be kept; and indeed, had it not been made, I am afraid the course would have been the same; for the key of that casket which you talk of is seldom to be found when needed; and the lock is somewhat rusty, from being left always open.--Think not, however, I would act or speak thus to all men; for had you, as did the only young man I ever saw twice before yourself, talked of my beautiful eyes or my charming fingers--or even, like the friend who was with you, had you thrown out a pretty neat-turned compliment upon bright and beautiful looks, to be picked up by any one who thought it worth the stooping for, I should have been as grave and silent as a deaf canoness, or have run away from you as fast as my feet could carry me; but you spoke of better things, though gaily, and seemed to me to know what is due, from knight and gentleman, to a woman and a lady, and therefore, my good lord, I trust you as a friend, and speak to you as a brother."