Be that as it may, when the King and Queen crossed the threshold, a mighty flourish of trumpets arose, and a waving of banners.  The Knights of the Garter (whoever they be) were to attend that day in state; and some went in, and some stayed out, and it made me think of the difference betwixt the ewes and the wethers.  For the ewes will go wherever you lead them; but the wethers will not, having strong opinions, and meaning to abide by them.  And one man I noticed was of the wethers, to wit the Duke of Norfolk; who stopped outside with the sword of state, like a beadle with a rapping-rod.  This has taken more to tell than the time it happened in.  For after all the men were gone, some to this side, some to that, according to their feelings, a number of ladies, beautifully dressed, being of the Queen’s retinue, began to enter, and were stared at three times as much as the men had been.  And indeed they were worth looking at (which men never are to my ideas, when they trick themselves with gewgaws), but none was so well worth eye-service as my own beloved Lorna.  She entered modestly and shyly, with her eyes upon the ground, knowing the rudeness of the gallants, and the large sum she was priced at.  Her dress was of the purest white, very sweet and simple, without a line of ornament, for she herself adorned it.  The way she walked and touched her skirt (rather than seemed to hold it up) with a white hand beaming one red rose, this and her stately supple neck, and the flowing of her hair would show, at a distance of a hundred yards, that she could be none but Lorna Doone.  Lorna Doone of my early love; in the days when she blushed for her name before me by reason of dishonesty; but now the Lady Lorna Dugal as far beyond reproach as above my poor affection.  All my heart, and all my mind, gathered themselves upon her.  Would she see me, or would she pass?  Was there instinct in our love?

By some strange chance she saw me.  Or was it through our destiny?  While with eyes kept sedulously on the marble floor, to shun the weight of admiration thrust too boldly on them, while with shy quick steps she passed, some one (perhaps with purpose) trod on the skirt of her clear white dress,—­with the quickness taught her by many a scene of danger, she looked up, and her eyes met mine.

As I gazed upon her, steadfastly, yearningly, yet with some reproach, and more of pride than humility, she made me one of the courtly bows which I do so much detest; yet even that was sweet and graceful, when my Lorna did it.  But the colour of her pure clear cheeks was nearly as deep as that of my own, when she went on for the religious work.  And the shining of her eyes was owing to an unpaid debt of tears.

Upon the whole I was satisfied.  Lorna had seen me, and had not (according to the phrase of the high world then) even tried to “cut” me.  Whether this low phrase is born of their own stupid meanness, or whether it comes of necessity exercised on a man without money, I know not, and I care not.  But one thing I know right well; any man who “cuts” a man (except for vice or meanness) should be quartered without quarter.