“And may I not answer . . . in jest?” leaning toward her.

She shook her head.  “No, sir, you may not; and if you attempt it, I shall leave you instantly.”

“Pardieu!” said he; “you are the most alluringly tantalizing woman I have ever known.  The evening of the ride you would scarce look at me, but talked with Lord Darby all the time.”

“He was making his farewells; he left the following morning.”

De Lacy laughed.  “Two hours of farewells!  Doubtless, you were delegated to receive them for the Household.”

The Countess was busy with her needle.  “He seemed to wish it so,” she said.

“And the next evening, when I asked you to walk on the wall, you well nigh froze me with the chill of your refusal.”

“And will do so again to—­Sir Aymer de Lacy.”

“And the following morning, at the first asking, you rode with me for leagues.”

She flashed a smile at him.  “And may do the same again.”

“And yet that very evening, when by accident I touched your hand, you turned your back upon me and ignored me for a day.”

“And will do the same again,” she answered calmly.

“And the next evening you talked with me for hours.”

“And am ready to do the same to-night.  You, too, may take your farewell of the entire suite through me—­unless, of course, you have tired of my foolish vagaries.”

“Methinks I am quite satisfied to be classed with Lord Darby in the matter of farewells; and as for the vagaries, they may be tantalizing but, believe me, they are far more winning.”

She held up a cautioning finger.

“I prefer your arraignment to your compliments,” she said.  “Methinks I told you once before of my dislike for flattery.”

“That was to Sir Ralph de Wilton . . . the night you walked with him on the wall.”

“True, so it was,” she laughed; “but you were there and heard it.”

He casually picked up a skein of silk that had slipped to the floor, but finding her eyes upon him gave it to her straightway.

“Why not walk now on the ramparts with Sir Ralph?” he asked very low and earnestly.

For an instant she seemed to hesitate; then she looked at him and shook her head.

“I may not,” she said.  “I have promised the evening to Sir Aymer de Lacy . . . for two hours of farewells.”

But the two hours were very brief, indeed; for almost immediately De Vivonne and De Wilton arrived, and shortly thereafter came Sir Richard Ratcliffe and Sir Robert Brackenbury, and the talk became general.  And presently Richard himself entered; and when he withdrew the Duchess went with him and the gathering broke up; and De Lacy got no more than a casual word of farewell from the Countess.