The staircase, as usual, formed the trysting-place.  Here Patricia waylaid her Knight on his way down from the library, taking her position on an upper step, which made their difference in height less apparent.  The same ceremony was enacted each time in accord with the ritual she had taught him.  After he passed her, she suddenly sprang up to her full stature, holding her arm high above her with the palm of her hand extended.

“Wit ye well, Sir Knight!” she cried, impressively.

Then Allen turned—­he was forbidden, under pain of death, to recognize her until he heard these mystic words—­knelt on the step below her and kissed her other hand, while the one upraised descended upon his head in benediction.

“The Lord be with thee, Fair Lady,” he replied, following his lesson.

“And with thee—­I accept thy troth.  Now we can have a visit.”

The Arthurian lady had vanished, and Patricia was herself again, curled up close beside him.

“Look here, Lady Pat,” he said, shaking his finger at her warningly, “I think we ought to put a stop to this—­you’re taking it all too seriously.”

“Of course,” she admitted, smiling up at him.  “Why don’t we get married right away—­then it needn’t be serious any longer.”

“Well”—­Allen would not have wounded the devoted little heart for worlds—­“one reason is that I haven’t money enough.”

“Did Knights have to have money?” Patricia inquired.  “I never saw a suit of armor with a money-pocket in it.”

“Neither did I,” he admitted.  “There wasn’t any money then, like ours, and when they wanted anything they didn’t have, they fought for it.”

“Well, then, why don’t you fight for it?”

“I’m going to—­I am fighting now.  I mean, Lady Pat, they don’t let you fight the way they used to.”

“Is it only because you haven’t money enough that we don’t marry, Sir Launcelot?”

“That is—­one of the principal reasons.”

“Swear that you don’t love any other fair lady.”

“Except Alice,” Allen insisted.

“Shall you always love her?” Patricia asked, wistfully.

Allen sighed.  “I’m afraid so, Lady Pat.”

“Well, I don’t care—­I’ll love you enough for both of us, so that’s all settled.  Now promise that you’ll sit on this very step and not move ’til I come back.”

“What for?  I must run along.”

“You promised,” she cried, and disappeared up-stairs as fast as her little white legs could carry her.  There was nothing to do but wait, yet Allen was not long kept in suspense.  Patricia returned with equal speed, carrying her bank in both hands.

“There!” she exclaimed, jingling the contents.  “You take that and make a lot more with it, and we shall have all the money we want.”

“But I can’t do that,” he protested.

“Aren’t you as smart as Mr. Covington?”

“What has he to do with it, Lady Pat?”