hat befell.

It was thus that when on the morrow her father returned to the subject,
she showed herself tractable and docile out of her indifference, and to
Gregory she appeared not averse to listen to what he had to advance
in the boy's favour. Anon Kenneth's own humble pleading, allied to his
contrite and sorrowful appearance, were received by her with that same
indifference, as also with indifference did she allow him later to kiss
her hand and assume the flattering belief that he was rehabilitated in
her favour.

But pale grew Mistress Cynthia's cheeks, and sad her soul. Wistful she
waxed, sighing at every turn, until it seemed to her--as haply it hath
seemed to many a maid--that all her life must she waste in vain sighs
over a man who gave no single thought to her.

CHAPTER XV. JOSEPH'S RETURN

On his side Kenneth strove hard during the days that followed to right
himself in her eyes. But so headlong was he in the attempt, and
so misguided, that presently he overshot his mark by dropping an
unflattering word concerning Crispin, whereby he attributed to the
Tavern Knight's influence and example the degenerate change that had of
late been wrought in him.

Cynthia's eyes grew hard as he spoke, and had he been wise he had better
served his cause by talking in another vein. But love and jealousy
had so addled what poor brains the Lord had bestowed upon him, that he
floundered on, unmindful of any warning that took not the blunt shape
of words. At length, however, she stemmed the flow of invective that his
lips poured forth.

"Have I not told you already, Kenneth, that it better becomes a
gentleman not to slander the man to whom he owes his life? In fact, that
a gentleman would scorn such an action?"

As he had protested before, so did he protest now, that what he had
uttered was no slander. And in his rage and mortification at the way she
used him, and for which he now bitterly upbraided her, he was very near
the point of tears, like the blubbering schoolboy that at heart he was.

"And as for the debt, madam," he cried, striking the oaken table of the
hall with his clenched hand, "it is a debt that shall be paid, a debt
which this gentleman whom you defend would not permit me to contract
until I had promised payment--aye, 'fore George!--and with interest, for
in the payment I may risk my very life."

"I see no interest in that, since you risk nothing more than what you
owe him," she answered, with a d