For Rose was not only well aware that she was wooed, but found the said wooing (and little shame to her) a very pleasant process.  Not that she had any wish to break hearts:  she did not break her heart for any of her admirers, and why should they break theirs for her?  They were all very charming, each in his way (the gentlemen, at least; for she had long since learnt to turn up her nose at merchants and burghers); but one of them was not so very much better than the other.

Of course, Mr. Frank Leigh was the most charming; but then, as a courtier and squire of dames, he had never given her a sign of real love, nothing but sonnets and compliments, and there was no trusting such things from a gallant, who was said (though, by the by, most scandalously) to have a lady love at Milan, and another at Vienna, and half-a-dozen in the Court, and half-a-dozen more in the city.

And very charming was Mr. William Cary, with his quips and his jests, and his galliards and lavoltas; over and above his rich inheritance; but then, charming also Mr. Coffin of Portledge, though he were a little proud and stately; but which of the two should she choose?  It would be very pleasant to be mistress of Clovelly Court; but just as pleasant to find herself lady of Portledge, where the Coffins had lived ever since Noah’s flood (if, indeed, they had not merely returned thither after that temporary displacement), and to bring her wealth into a family which was as proud of its antiquity as any nobleman in Devon, and might have made a fourth to that famous trio of Devonshire Cs, of which it is written,—­

     “Crocker, Cruwys, and Copplestone,
     When the Conqueror came were all at home.”

And Mr. Hugh Fortescue, too—­people said that he was certain to become a great soldier—­perhaps as great as his brother Arthur—­and that would be pleasant enough, too, though he was but the younger son of an innumerable family:  but then, so was Amyas Leigh.  Ah, poor Amyas!  Her girl’s fancy for him had vanished, or rather, perhaps, it was very much what it always had been, only that four or five more girl’s fancies beside it had entered in, and kept it in due subjection.  But still, she could not help thinking a good deal about him, and his voyage, and the reports of his great strength, and beauty, and valor, which had already reached her in that out-of-the-way corner; and though she was not in the least in love with him, she could not help hoping that he had at least (to put her pretty little thought in the mildest shape) not altogether forgotten her; and was hungering, too, with all her fancy, to give him no peace till he had told her all the wonderful things which he had seen and done in this ever-memorable voyage.  So that, altogether, it was no wonder, if in her last night’s dream the figure of Amyas had been even more forward and troublesome than that of Frank or the rest.