Manners said no more; his mind was too much occupied, his thoughts were bubbling within him in furious turmoil.  Leaving his companion behind, he rushed hastily on, and never stayed his course until he had reached his destination.

“The letter, Lettice, the letter,” he cried, as he entered the hut.

“Nay, I have no letter, Master Manners,” replied the maid.  “My lady bid me tell it thee instead.”

“What is it?  Is it yes, or no?” he cried.

“Neither, yet.  My mistress went all through the weary night, and thought of naught else but thee and the answer she should give.”

“Poor Doll,” ejaculated her lover, tenderly. “’Tis time all this was ended, Lettice; she is fading away, yes, fading away, and what will come of it all, if she says me nay, I tremble to think.”

“She will not say thee nay, though, Master Manners,” replied Lettice.  “I shall lose my mistress soon.  She has told me all.”

“Told thee all?” he echoed.  “She will not say me nay, and yet she consents not!  You speak in riddles.  Come, explain it all.”

“She knoweth not her mind as yet,” explained the maiden, “but I can plainly see which way it will all end.  Even as she poured her story out to me I could see it; I could read it in her sobs and sighs.  She had not wept so long had she not loved thee so well; and her love for thee is stronger than her other loves, else she had obeyed my lord the baron by now.  It needs no astrologer to tell all this.”

“Heaven grant it may be so,” replied Manners, fervently; “but what did my Dorothy bid thee say?  Thy words have made a sore commotion in my heart, fair Lettice.”

Lettice hung down her head and blushed at the unexpected compliment.

“Thou art to come to the feast to-night,” she replied, “and my lady will give thee answer there.”

“I shall be there, Lettice,” he promptly returned.  “Tell her I shall not fail her.  But how shall I see her, has she thought of that?”

“We have arranged it all, good sir; thou hast but to do her bidding, and all will go well.”

She did not say that Dorothy had been too distracted in mind to make any arrangements whatever, but, as a matter of fact, this duty had devolved entirely upon the maid, for her mistress had done little more than nod assent through her tears to all the propositions of her companion.  It was the ready wit of Lettice which had proposed everything at just the time when Dorothy was quite unable to suggest anything for herself.

“The wedding ceremony will take place in four more days,” Lettice continued, “and the feasting begins to-night.”

Manners was aware of the fact, and he bowed his head in silent acquiescence.

“And thou art to come to the Hall,” pursued the maid.  “Thou art skilful on the lute, my mistress says.”

“I can play the lute,” he answered, “but what of that?  Will she pipe me an answer back?”