In the doorway the Countess halted—­and gave De Lacy her hand.

“I thank you for the walk,” she said, as he bowed over it; then a merry gleam came in her eyes—­“Good night, Sir . . .  Aymer.”

IV

TRAILING CHAINS

“Women are queer creatures,” De Wilton remarked, as he turned away from the window and sat down beside De Lacy, who having just completed his first tour of duty in the Household as Knight-in-waiting was still lounging in the antechamber.

“It seems to me,” said Aymer, “I have heard that idea advanced once before in France—­or maybe it was in Italy.”

“Doubtless—­but the present proof of it is yonder,” De Wilton answered, nodding toward the window.  “The Countess has just gone for a ride with Darby.”

De Lacy looked up from the dagger he was idly polishing on his doublet sleeve.

“And the proof in particular is what?” he asked.  “Her costume, her horse, or her escort?”

“I gave her the horse,” said De Wilton.

“That absolves the horse, and as it could not be the costume, it must be . . .”

De Wilton brought his fist down on the bancal with a smash.

“Darby—­and may the Devil fly away with him! . . .  Oh! it is not jealousy,” catching Aymer’s quick glance.  “We were children together at her father’s castle, and she is like a sister to me.”

“And so, as usual, ignores a brother’s advice touching her suitors?” De Lacy observed.

“Touching only this one.”

“Then you should feel flattered.”

“I offered no advice as to any other.”

Aymer sheathed the dagger and adjusted his cloak.

“I suppose,” said he, “one may assume you are not over-fond of Darby.”

De Wilton nodded.  “That you may—­and yet if you were to ask my reasons I could give none, save a thorough detestation.”

“And the Countess has asked for the reason?”

“Many times.”

De Lacy laughed.  “I see,” he said.  “Now tell me about this Darby—­I think you mentioned he was not of the Household.”

“Thank Heaven, no—­or I would not be of it.  He has some power in the West Riding, and came by special summons of the Duke.  But that business ended two days ago—­it is the Countess that holds him now.”

“Well,” said De Lacy, “I, too, would linger if it meant a ride with the Countess of Clare and the favor that implies.”

“Oh, as to that, he is favored no more than a dozen others.  What irks me is that she favors him at all.”

“What would you say if I, too, tried for a smile?” De Lacy asked.

De Wilton ran his eyes very deliberately over the handsome figure beside him.

“That you will win it,” he said, “and may be more than one—­and the chains that trail behind. . .  Beware, the chains are very heavy.”

De Lacy shook his head.  “Strong they may be—­strong as life—­but heavy, never.”