The wonder never ceases that John did not recognize her.  She took no pains to hide her identity, and after a few moments of concealment she was anxious that John should discover her under my garments.

“I would know his voice,” she thought, “did he wear all the petticoats in Derbyshire.”

“What shall I do with you?” cried John, amused and irritated.  “I cannot strike you.”

“No, of course you would not murder me in cold blood,” answered Dorothy, laughing heartily.  She was sure her laughter would open John’s eyes.

“I cannot carry you away,” said John.

“I would come back again, if you did,” answered the irrepressible fellow.

“I suppose you would,” returned John, sullenly.  “In the devil’s name, tell me what you will do.  Can I not beg you to go?”

“Now, Sir John, you have touched me.  I make you this offer:  you expect Mistress Vernon to come from the Hall—­”

“What do you know about Mistress Vernon?” cried John.  “By God, I will—­”

“Now don’t grow angry, Sir John, and please don’t swear in my presence.  You expect her, I say, to come from the Hall.  What I propose is this:  you shall stand by the gate and watch for Doll—­oh, I mean Mistress Vernon—­and I will stand here behind the wall where she cannot see me.  When she comes in sight—­though in truth I don’t think she will come, and I believe were she under your very nose you would not see her—­you shall tell me and I will leave at once; that is, if you wish me to leave.  After you see Dorothy Vernon if you still wish me to go, I pledge my faith no power can keep me.  Now is not that fair?  I like you very much, and I want to remain here, if you will permit me, and talk to you for a little time—­till you see Doll Vernon.”

“Doll Vernon, fellow?  How dare you so speak of her?” demanded John, hotly.

“Your pardon and her pardon, I beg; Mistress Vernon, soon to be Countess of Derbyshire.  By the way, I wager you a gold pound sterling that by the time you see Doll Vernon—­Mistress Vernon, I pray your pardon—­you will have grown so fond of me that you will not permit me to leave you.”  She thought after that speech he could not help but know her; but John’s skull was like an oaken board that night.  Nothing could penetrate it.  He began to fancy that his companion was a simple witless person who had escaped from his keepers.

“Will you take the wager?” asked Dorothy.

“Nonsense!” was the only reply John deigned to give to so foolish a proposition.

“Then will you agree that I shall remain at the gate till Doll—­Mistress Vernon comes?”

“I suppose I shall have to make the best terms possible with you,” he returned.  “You are an amusing fellow and as perverse as a woman.”

“I knew you would soon learn to like me,” she responded.  “The first step toward a man’s affection is to amuse him.  That old saw which says the road to a man’s heart is through his stomach, is a sad mistake.  Amusement is the highway to a man’s affections.”