Poesy, verse, and rhetoric all came to help him in his wooing.

Now and then the girl would respond to his ardor with "Please, my lord," or "I pray you, my lord," and when he would try to take her hand she would say, "I beg you, my lord, do not." But Leicester evidently thought that the "do not" meant "do," for soon he began to steal his arm about her waist, and she was so slow in stopping him that I thought she was going to submit.

She, however, arose gently to her feet and said:-- "My lord, I must return to the Hall.

I may not longer remain here with you." The earl caught her hand and endeavored to kiss it, but she adroitly prevented him, and stepping out into the path, started slowly toward the Hall.

She turned her head slightly toward Leicester in a mute but eloquent invitation, and he quickly followed her.
I watched the pair walk up the terrace.