And, by the rood, what a smile!" "Is this thy friend, Master Nevile ?" said Sibyll, with a glance at the goldsmith.

"He is welcome.

But is it fair and courteous, Master Nelwyn--" "Alwyn, an' it please you, fair mistress.

A humble name, but good Saxon,--which, I take it, Nelwyn is not," interrupted Nicholas.
"Master Alwyn, forgive me; but can I forgive thee so readily for thy espial of my handiwork, without license or leave ?" "Yours, comely mistress!" exclaimed Nicholas, opening his eyes, and unheeding the gay rebuke--"why, this is a master-hand.

My Lord Scales--nay, the Earl of Worcester himself--hath scarce a finer in all his amassment." "Well, I forgive thy fault for thy flattery; and I pray thee, in my father's name, to stay and sup with thy friend." Nicholas bowed low, and still riveted his eyes on the book with such open admiration, that Marmaduke thought it right to excuse his abstraction; but there was something in that admiration which raised the spirits of Sibyll, which gave her hope when hope was well-nigh gone; and she became so vivacious, so debonair, so charming, in the flow of a gayety natural to her, and very uncommon with English maidens, but which she took partly, perhaps, from her French blood, and partly from the example of girls and maidens of French extraction in Margaret's court, that Nicholas Alwyn thought he had never seen any one so irresistible.