“O faint-spirited man-at-arms!” cried Charlotte, blushing, and laughing as if some exquisite jest were abroad.  “Do you so terribly dread your mistress’s anger?  Nay, be of good cheer!  Me she will never forgive while the world stands; for have I not been your nurse, and won you back to life and to her service?  And has she not seen us twain together in one place, and happy, because of the coming of the Maid?  She will pardon me never, because, also for my sake, she has been wroth with you, and shown you her wrath, and all without a cause.  Therefore she will be ashamed, and all the more cruel.  Nay, nor would I forgive her, in the same case, if it befell me, for we women are all alike, hearts of wolves when we love!  Hast thou never marked a cat that had kittens, or a brachet that had whelps, how they will fly at man or horse that draws near their brood, even unwittingly.  And so, when we love, are we all, and the best of us are then the worst.  Verily the friendship of you and me is over and done; but for your part be glad, not sorry, for with all her heart and soul she loves you.  Else she had not been angered.”

“You must not speak, nor I hear, such words of my lady,” I said; “it is not seemly.”

“Such words of your lady, and of Aymeric’s lady, and of Giles’s lady, and of myself were I any man’s lady, as I am no man’s lady, I will think and speak,” said Charlotte, “for my words are true, and we maids are, at best, pretty fools, and God willed us to be so for a while, and then to be wiser than the rest of you.  For, were we not pretty, would you wed us? and were we not fools, would we wed you? and where would God’s world be then?  But now you have heard enough of my wisdom:  for I love no man, being very wise; or you have heard enough of my folly that my mirth bids me speak, as you shall deem it.  And now, we must consider how this great feud may be closed, and the foes set at one again.”

“Shall I find out her lodgings, and be carried thither straightway in a litter?  Her heart may be softened when she sees that I cannot walk or mount a horse?”

“Now, let me think what I should deem, if I had ridden by, unlooked for, and spied my lover with a maid, not unfriendly, or perchance uncomely, sitting smiling in a gallant balcony.  Would I be appeased when he came straight to seek me, borne in a litter?  Would I—?” And she mused, her finger at her mouth, and her brow puckered, but with a smile on her lips and in her eyes.

Then I, seeing her so fair, yet by me so undesired; and beholding her so merry, while my heart was amazed with the worst sorrow, and considering, too, that but for her all this would never have been, but I sitting happy by my lady’s side,—­thinking on all this, I say, I turned from her angrily, as if I would leave the balcony.