r; 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 courtyard 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 fairest of all, to
my eye, is your lovely hair in its silver frame, and the setting sun
kissing it. It minds me of what the Vulgate praises for beauty, 'an
apple of gold in a network of silver,' and oh, 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."

"Oh, fie! it is wicked to talk so. Compare a poor, coarse-favoured girl
like me with the Queen of Heaven? Oh, 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."

"Oh, 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. Oh! 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, v