Janice, who had stooped lower over the patches when first he spoke, flashed her eyes up for an instant, and then dropped them again.

“And one is blamed and punished for much that deserves it not.  I’ faith, I know one man who stands disgraced to the woman he loves best, for no better cause than that the depth of his passion was so boundless that he went to every length to gain her.”

The quilter fitted a red calimanco patch in place, and studied the effect with intense interest.

“Wouldst like me to carry a message to the prisoner, Miss Janice?”

“Oh, will you?” murmured the girl, gratefully and eagerly.  “Wilt tell him that I knew nothing of the plan to capture him, and was only trying to aid his escape?  That, after all his kindness, I would never—­”

Here the eager flow of words received a check by the re-entrance of Mrs. Meredith.  Dropping his hand upon the quilting-frame so that it covered one of the girl’s, the commissary conveyed by a slight pressure a pledge of fulfilment of her wish, and, after a few moments’ passing chat, left the room.  Before a lapse of ten minutes he returned, and took a chair near the girl.

Glancing at her mother, to see if her eyes wandered from the sock she was resoling, Janice raised her eyebrows with furtive inquiry.  In answer the baron shook his head.

“’T is a curious commentary on man, “he observed thoughtfully, “that he always looks on the black side of his fellow-creatures, and will not believe that they can be honest and truthful.”

“Man is born in sin,” responded Mrs. Meredith.  “Janice, that last patch is misplaced; pay heed to thy work.”

“I lately had occasion to justify an action to a man,” went on Clowes, “but, no, the scurvy fellow would put no faith in my words, insisting that the person I sought to clear was covinous and tricky, and wholly unworthy of trust.”

“The thoughts of a man who prefers to think such things,” broke in Janice, hotly, “are of no moment.”

“Ye are quite right, Miss Janice,” assented the emissary, “and I would I’d had the wit to tell him so.  ’T is my intention some day to call him to account for his words.”

Further communion on this topic was interrupted by the incoming of Mr. Meredith, and during the whole day the two were never alone.  His forgiveness partly won by his service, the commissary ventured to take a seat beside the quilter, and sought to increase his favour with her by all the arts of tongue and manner he had at command.  As these were manifold, he saw no reason, as dusk set in, to be dissatisfied with the day’s results.  Inexperienced as Janice was, she could not know that the cooler and less ardent the man, the better he plays the lover’s part; and while she never quite forgot his previous deceit, nor the trouble into which he had persuaded her, yet she was thoroughly entertained by what he had to tell her, the more that under all his words he managed to convey an admiration and devotion which did not fail to flatter the girl, even though it stirred in her no response.  Entertained as she might be, her thoughts were not so occupied by the charm and honey of Lord Clowes’s attentions as to pretermit all dwelling on the aide’s opinion of her, and this was shown when finally an interruption set her free from observation.