That day was gone, but men still dropped their work to see a woman pass, still cheered when a farthingale appeared over a ship's side, and at church still devoted their eyes to other service than staring at the minister. In our short but crowded history few things had made a greater stir than the coming in of Sir Edwyn's maids. They were married now, but they were still the observed of all observers; to be pointed out to strangers, run after by children, gaped at by the vulgar, bowed to with broad smiles by Burgess, Councilor, and commander, and openly contemned by those dames who had attained to a husband in somewhat more regular fashion. Of the ninety who had arrived two weeks before, the greater number had found husbands in the town itself or in the neighboring hundreds, so that in the crowd that had gathered to withstand the Spaniard, and had stayed to welcome the King's favorite, there were farthingales not a few. But there were none like the woman whose hand I had kissed in the courting meadow. In the throng, that day, in her Puritan dress and amid the crowd of meaner beauties, she had passed without overmuch comment, and since that day none had seen her save Rolfe and the minister, my servants and myself; and when “The Spaniard!” was cried, men thought of other things than the beauty of women; so that until this moment she had escaped any special notice. Now all that was changed. The Governor, following the pointing of those insolent eyes, fixed his own upon her in a stare of sheer amazement; the gold-laced quality about him craned necks, lifted eyebrows, and whispered; and the rabble behind followed their betters' example with an emphasis quite their own. “Where do you suppose that jewel went, Sir Governor,” said the favorite,--“that jewel which was overnice to shine at court, which set up its will against the King's, which would have none of that one to whom it had been given?” “I am a plain man, my lord,” replied the Governor bluntly. “An it please you, give me plain words.” My lord laughed, his eyes traveling round the ring of greedily intent faces. “So be it, sir,” he assented. “May I ask who is this lady?” “She came in the Bonaventure,” answered the Governor. “She was one of the treasurer's poor maids.” “With whom I trod a measure at court not long ago,” said the favorite. “I had to wait for the honor until the prince had been gratified.” The Governor's round eyes grew rounder. Young Hamor, a-tiptoe behind him, drew a long, low whistle. “In so small a community,” went on my lord, “sure you must all know one another. There can be no masks worn, no false colors displayed. Everything must be as open as daylight. But we all have a past as well as a present. Now, for instance”-- I interrupted him. “In Virginia, my lord, we live in the present. At present, my lord, I like not the color of your lordship's cloak.”