“Silence is new in Sir Ralph,” she said.

“He was waiting leave to speak.”

“And that is newer still.”

“You like the new?” he asked audaciously.

“Oh! it is variety for the moment”—­with the faintest lift of the chin—­“though doubtless it would get tiresome in time.”

“Let us enjoy the moment then,” said he.  “I was thinking of you when you came.”

“I regret, Sir Ralph, I may not be equally flattering.”

“So does Sir Ralph.”

“Though I will admit my thoughts were of a man.”

“He shall have my gage at sunrise.”

She shook her head.  “They were not worth it—­only idle curiosity concerning a new member of the Household I noticed in the Duke’s chamber this afternoon.” . . .  She became interested in her cloak.  “I do not now even recall his name,” she added negligently.

De Lacy smiled and looked at the stars.

Presently she shot a quick glance up at him.

“Did you not meet him at the evening meal, Sir Ralph?”

“He was there—­on the Duke’s left,” De Lacy answered carelessly.

“And his name?”

“De Lacy—–­Aymer de Lacy.”

“A good North of England name,” she commented.

“Aye, it once ran with Clare in Yorkshire,” he answered.

“The Clares are done,” said she, and sighed a bit.

“And the flower of them all bloomed last,” he added gravely.

But she put the words aside.

“Do not be foolish, Sir Ralph.  You know I dislike compliments.  Tell me about this Sir Aymer de Lacy—­I never heard of him at Court.”

“He has lived all his life in France.”

“Patriotic, truly!” with a shrug.

“As to that,” said the Knight, “it is fit that he should answer for himself, and not through Sir Ralph de Wilton; though either Richard of Gloucester entirely ignored the point or else he was quite satisfied.”

She laughed.  “Then it is not for me to raise it; so tell me why he came to Pontefract.”

“To take service with the Duke, I fancy—­and methinks he has already found one more reason for staying than for coming.”

“The Duke is reason enough for a soldier who wants a man for a master,” she said.  Then suddenly faced about.  “Let us hasten—­I fear I have overstayed my time.”

As they rounded a bastion near the keep they encountered Lord Darby.

“Ah, Beatrix, well met,” he said, offering his arm and nodding carelessly to De Lacy.  “Her Grace desires you.”

“Did she send you for me?” the Countess asked, ignoring his arm and hurrying on—­and De Lacy noting it, kept beside her.

Lord Darby forced a smile.  “Not exactly; I volunteered to go for you.”

“You are very kind,” she said rather tartly; “a moment longer and you would have been saved the trouble.”

Darby’s smile failed completely and he made no answer.