"

"Room! There is room enough for thee, I dare say," replied Eva, rather
contemptuously. She looked down on Sir John supremely for four reasons,
which in her own eyes at least were excellent ones. First, he was
rather short; secondly, he was very silent; thirdly, he was not
particularly handsome; and lastly (and of most import), he had remained
proof against all Eva's attractions.

"I thank thee," was all he said now; and he walked into Margaret's
bower, where he took a seat on the extreme end of the settle, and never
said a word to any body whilst he stayed.

"The absurd creature!" exclaimed Eva, when he was gone. "What an
absolute ass he is! He has not an idea in his head."

"Oh, I beg thy pardon, Eva," interposed Marie, rather warmly. "He's
plenty of ideas. He'll talk if one talks to him. Thou never dost."

"He is clever enough to please thee, very likely!" was the rather
snappish answer.

From that evening, Sir John de Averenches took to frequenting the bower
occasionally, much to the annoyance of Eva, until the happy thought
struck her that she might have captivated him at last. Mentally binding
him to her chariot wheels, she made no further objection, but on the
contrary, became so amiable that the shrewd little Marie noticed the
alteration.

"Well, Eva is queer!" said that acute young lady. "She goes into the
sulks if Sir William de Cantilupe so much as looks at any body; but she
does not care how many people she looks at! I think she should be
jealous on both sides!"

Eva's amenities, however, seemed to have no more effect on Sir John than
her displeasure. Night after night, there he sat, never speaking to any
one, and apparently not noticing one more than another.

"He's going out of his mind," suggested Marie.

"Not he!" said Eva. "He's none to go out of!"

The mystery was left unsolved, except by Bruno, who fancied that he
guessed its meaning; but since the clue was one which he preferred not
to pursue, he discreetly left matters to shape themselves, or rather, to
be shaped by Providence, when the time should come.

That was a dreary winter altogether. The King had openly insulted his
sister and Montfort, when they made their appearance at the ceremony of
the Queen's "up-rising;" [Churching] and they had left England,
pocketing the affront, but as concerned Montfort, by no means forgetting
it.

The Pope made further encroachments on the liberties of the Church of
England, by se