He told her that he loved her better in that than in her costume of state--the ruff, the fardingale, the brocaded petticoat, and all the rest--in which he had seen her once last summer at Babington House.

He talked then, when she would hear no more of that, of Tuesday seven-night, when they would meet for hawking in the lower chase of the Padley estates; and proceeded then to speak of Agnes, whom he had left on the fist of the man who had taken his mare, of her increasing infirmities and her crimes of crabbing; and all the while he held her left hand in both of his, and fitted her fingers between his, and kissed them again when he had no more to say on any one point; and wondered why he could not speak of the matter on which he had come, and how he should tell her.

And then at last she drew it from him.
"And now, my Robin," she said, "tell me what you have in your mind.

You have talked of this and that and Agnes and Jock, and Padley chase, and you have not once looked me in the eyes since you first came in." Now it was not shame that had held him from telling her, but rather a kind of bewilderment.

The affair might hold shame, indeed, or anger, or sorrow, or complacence, but he did not know; and he wished, as young men of decent birth should wish, to present the proper emotion on its right occasion.