The Cloister and the Hearth: A Tale of the Middle Ages - Charles Reade Reade

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unfavourable to appetite. But there is a delicate kind of sensuality, to whose influence these two were perhaps more sensitive than any other pair in that assembly; the delights of colour, music, and perfume, all of which blended so fascinatingly here.

      SHE TURNED HER HEAD AWAY, AND HER LONG EYELASHES DROOPED SWEETLY SHE TURNED HER HEAD AWAY, AND HER LONG EYELASHES DROOPED SWEETLY

      Gerard was silent all but his eyes; observing which—

      "Now, speak not to me," said Margaret languidly; "let me listen to the fountain: what are you a competitor for?"

      He told her.

      "Very well! You will gain one prize, at least."

      "Which? Which? Have you seen any of my work?"

      "I? no. But you will gain a prize."

      "I hope so: but what makes you think so?"

      "Because you were so good to my father."

      Gerard smiled at the feminine logic, and hung his head at the sweet praise, and was silent.

      "Speak not," murmured Margaret. "They say this is a world of sin and misery. Can that be? What is your opinion?"

      "No! that is all a silly old song," explained Gerard. "'Tis a byword our elders keep repeating, out of custom: it is not true."

      "How can you know? you are but a child," said Margaret, with pensive dignity.

      "Why only look round! And then I thought I had lost you for ever; and you are by my side: and now the minstrels are going to play again. Sin and misery? Stuff and nonsense!"

      The lutes burst out. The court-yard rang again with their delicate harmony.

      "What do you admire most of all these beautiful things, Gerard?"

      "You know my name? How is that?"

      "White magic. I am a witch."

      "Angels are never witches. But I can't think how you—"

      "Foolish boy! was it not cried at the gate loud enough to deave one?"

      "So it was. Where is my head? What do I admire most? If you will sit a little more that way, I'll tell you."

      "This way?"

      "Yes; so that the light may fall on you. There. I see many fair things here, fairer than I could have conceived; but the bravest of all to my eye, is your lovely hair in its silver frame, and the setting sun kissing it. It reminds me of what the Vulgate praises for beauty, 'an apple of gold in a network of silver,' and, O what a pity I did not know you before I sent in my poor endeavours at illuminating! I could illuminate so much better now. I could do everything better. There, now the sun is full on it, it is like an aureole. So our Lady looked, and none since her until to-day."

      "O fie! it is wicked to talk so. Compare a poor, coarse-favoured girl like me with the Queen of Heaven? O Gerard! I thought you were a good young man." And Margaret was shocked apparently.

      Gerard tried to explain. "I am no worse than the rest: but how can I help having eyes; and a heart—Margaret!"

      "Gerard?"

      "Be not angry now!"

      "Now, is it likely?"

      "I love you."

      "O for shame! you must not say that to me," and Margaret coloured furiously at this sudden assault.

      "I can't help it. I love you. I love you."

      "Hush, hush! for pity's sake! I must not listen to such words from a stranger. I am ungrateful to call you a stranger. O how one may be mistaken! If I had known you were so bold—" And Margaret's bosom began to heave, and her cheeks were covered with blushes, and she looked towards her sleeping father, very much like a timid thing that meditates actual flight.

      Then Gerard was frightened at the alarm he caused. "Forgive me," said he imploringly. "How could any one help loving you?"

      "Well, sir, I will try and forgive you—you are so good in other respects; but then you must promise me never to say you—to say that again."

      "Give me your hand then, or you don't forgive me."

      She hesitated; but eventually put out her hand a very little way, very slowly, and with seeming reluctance. He took it, and held it prisoner. When she thought it had been there long enough, she tried gently to draw it away. He held it tight: it submitted quite patiently to force. What is the use resisting force? She turned her head away, and her long eyelashes drooped sweetly. Gerard lost nothing by his promise. Words were not heeded here: and silence was more eloquent. Nature was in that day what she is in ours; but manners were somewhat freer. Then, as now, virgins drew back alarmed at the first words of love; but of prudery and artificial coquetry there was little, and the young soon read one another's hearts. Everything was on Gerard's side: his good looks, her belief in his goodness, her gratitude; and opportunity: for at the duke's banquet this mellow summer eve, all things disposed the female nature to tenderness: the avenues to the heart lay open; the senses were so soothed and subdued with lovely colours, gentle sounds, and delicate odours; the sun gently sinking the warm air, the green canopy, the cool music of the now violet fountain.

      Gerard and Margaret sat hand in hand in silence: and Gerard's eyes sought hers lovingly; and hers now and then turned on him timidly and imploringly: and presently two sweet unreasonable tears rolled down her cheeks, and she smiled deliciously while they were drying: yet they did not take long.

      And the sun declined; and the air cooled, and the fountain plashed more gently; and the pair throbbed in unison, and silence, and this weary world looked heaven to them.

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      A GRAVE white-haired seneschal came to their table, and inquired courteously whether Gerard Eliassoen was of their company. Upon Gerard's answer, he said:

      "The Princess Marie would confer with you, young sir; I am to conduct you to her presence."

      Instantly all faces within hearing turned sharp round, and were bent with curiosity and envy on the man that was to go to a princess.

      Gerard rose to obey.

      "I wager we shall not see you again," said Margaret, calmly, but colouring a little.

      "That will you," was the reply: then he whispered in her ear: "This is my good princess; but you are my queen." He added aloud: "Wait for me, I pray you, I will presently return."

      "Ay, ay!" said Peter awaking and speaking at one and the same moment.

      Gerard gone, the pair whose dress was so homely, yet they were with the man whom the princess sent for, became "the cynosure of neighbouring eyes;" observing which, William Johnson came forward, acted surprise, and claimed his relations:

      "And to think that there was I at your backs, and you saw me not."

      "Nay, cousin Johnson, I saw you long syne," said Margaret, coldly.

      "You saw me, and spoke not to me?"

      "Cousin, it was for you to welcome us to Rotterdam, as it is for us to welcome you at Sevenbergen. Your servant denied us a seat in your house."

      "The idiot!"

      "And I had a mind to see whether it was 'like maid like master:' for there is sooth in bywords."

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