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Updated: May 1, 2025
Ah, Rose, Rose! that sisterly reasoning is of all others the most perilous. Time passed on. The bride wrote a letter, which, in its tone and character, sounded pretty much like a long trumpet-note of exultation. Mrs. Myles declared it to be a dear letter, a charming letter, a most lady-like letter, and yet evidently she was not satisfied therewith.
Won't you step in and tell father about it?" "Oh, you can tell him. I couldn't make him understand it at all, he's so foolish." Feemy bore the slur on her father without indignation. "But, Myles, if you go so soon, am I to go with you?" and when after a few minutes he did not answer, "Speak, Myles, an't we to be married before you go?"
"Now thou mayst go, Blunt. Thou, Falworth, stay; I would bespeak thee further." "Tell me," said he, when the elder lad had left them, "why wilt thou not serve these bachelors as the other squires do? Such is the custom here. Why wilt thou not obey it?" "Because," said Myles, "I cannot stomach it, and they shall not make me serve them.
She began the question in a hard voice, but as she said "Poor Jean Myles" something caught in her throat, and she sobbed, painful dry sobs. "How could they pity her when she were such a bad one?" Tommy answered briskly. "Is there none to pity bad ones?" said his sorrowful mother. Elspeth plucked her by the skirt.
"Well," said he, as Myles stopped, "thou hast gone too far now to draw back. Say thy say to the end. Why wouldst thou rather be in thy father's stead than in mine?" Myles did not answer. "Thou shalt finish thy speech, or else show thyself a coward. Though thy father is ruined, thou didst say I am what?" Myles keyed himself up to the effort, and then blurted out, "Thou art attainted with shame."
"Sir," cried Myles, violently smiting his open palm upon the table, "tell me who this man is, and I will kill him!" Sir James smiled grimly. "Thou talkest like a boy," said he. "Wait until thou art grown to be a man.
"Hold mine own?" cried Myles, turning to Lord George. "Sir; thou dost not mean thou canst not mean, that I may hope or dream to hold mine own against the Sieur de la Montaigne." "Aye," said Lord George, "that was what I did mean." "Come, Myles," said the Earl; "now tell me: wilt thou fight the Sieur de la Montaigne?"
She turned quickly to him: "Nay, Sir Myles," she said, "I am foolish, and do wrong thee by my foolishness and silence, for, truly, I am proud to have thee wear my favor." She unclasped, as she spoke, the thin gold chain from about her neck. "I give thee this chain," said she, "and it will bring me joy to have it honored by thy true knightliness, and, giving it, I do wish thee all success."
He turned and looked at the tall crown rising into the warm sunlight with a new interest, for the thought of entering it smacked pleasantly of adventure. "How wouldst thou set about getting within?" said he, presently. "Why, look," said Myles; "seest thou not yon hole in the ivy branches? Methinks there is a window at that place. An I mistake not, it is in reach of the stable eaves.
"I see nothing amiss, sirrah," said the old knight, half grudgingly. "So far as I may know, he is ready to mount." Just then a messenger entered, saying that the King was seated, and Lord George bade Myles make haste to meet the challenger. "Francis," said Myles, "prithee give me my pouch yonder."
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