"Are we to part enemies ?" She made me no answer, but I seemed to see a softening in her face as she turned away towards the window, whence were to be seen the stretch of the lawn and the park-meadows beyond.

I believe that with a little more coaxing she would have pardoned me, but at the instant, by another stroke of perversity, a small figure sauntered across the sunny fields.
The fairest sights may sometimes come amiss.
"Cydaria! A fine name!" said Barbara, with curling lip.

"I'll wager she has reasons for giving no other." "Her mother gives another to the gardener," I reminded her meekly.
"Names are as easy given as--as kisses!" she retorted.

"As for Cydaria, my lord says it is a name out of a play." All this while we had stood at the window, watching Cydaria's light feet trip across the meadow, and her bonnet swing wantonly in her hand.

But now Cydaria disappeared among the trunks of the beech trees.
"See, she has gone," said I in a whisper.