“And you come up to London, mistress,” he said, “no doubt,” with a look at her dress that was not at all insolent, and yet very plain.  And it was indeed a pretty good one; and I remember it very well.  It was cut like a French sac—­a fashion that had first come in about ten years before, and still lasted; and was a little lower at the throat than many that she wore.  It was of a brownish kind of yellow, of which I do not know the name, and had white lace to it, and silver lace on the bodice.  She was sunburnt again, but not too much, as I had first seen her; and her blue eyes looked very bright in her face; and she wore a ring on either hand, as she usually did in the evening, and had her little pearls round her neck.  It was strange to me how I observed all this, so soon as the Duke had drawn attention to it; whereas I had not observed it particularly before.

Wen we went into supper it was the same with the Duke and her.  He behaved to her with the greatest deference, yet not at all exaggerated so as to be in the least insolent.  He treated her, it appeared to me, as he would have treated one of his own ladies, though there had been every excuse, especially with Cousin Tom’s way of speaking to her, and the deep country we were in, if he had not noticed her at all.  Mr. Atkins, as he called himself, followed suit; but said very little.  Once, when the dishes had to be taken away, and Dolly rose to do it—­before I could move—­(my Cousin Tom, of course, sat there like a dummy)—­I observed the Duke make a little movement with his eyes towards Mr. Atkins, who immediately rose up and did it for her.

The effect of all this upon me was to make me do my best in talk; but it was not very easy without betraying that I knew more of the Court than might be supposed; but the Duke outdid me every time.  He listened with the greatest courtesy; and then said something a little better.  I think I have never seen a man do better; but it was always so with him.  Five years later he won the hearts of all the drapers in Taunton, in that terrible enterprise of his, besides ranging on his side some of the noblest blood in England.  Twenty-six young maids in that town gave him a Bible and a pair of colours worked by their hands; and twenty-six young maids, it was said, went away after it in love with him.  He did not prove himself very much of a hero in the field; but from his manner in company one could never have guessed at that.  He had all the bearing of a prince, and all the charm of a boy with it.

My Cousin Tom said something when supper was ending about Dolly’s skill in music; and how she and her maid sang together.

“May we not hear it for ourselves?” asked the Duke.

“But you are wet, sir,” said my Cousin Tom.

The Duke smiled.

“I shall not think of that, sir,” he said, “if Mistress Dorothy will sing to us.”