o
sweet and pleasant a time in all my life before. Never did I know a
real lady to talk with, saving only my mother, and I do tell ye
plain methinks I would rather talk with ye than with any he in
Christendom--saving, perhaps, only my friend Gascoyne. I would I might
come hither again."

The honest frankness of his speech was irresistible; the two girls
exchanged glances and then began laughing. "Truly," said Lady Anne, who,
as was said before, was some three or four years older than Myles,
"thou art a bold lad to ask such a thing. How wouldst thou come hither?
Wouldst tumble through our clematis arbor again, as thou didst this
day?"

"Nay," said Myles, "I would not do that again, but if ye will bid me do
so, I will find the means to come hither."

"Nay," said Lady Anne, "I dare not bid thee do such a foolhardy thing.
Nevertheless, if thou hast the courage to come--"

"Yea," said Myles, eagerly, "I have the courage."

"Then, if thou hast so, we will be here in the garden on Saturday next
at this hour. I would like right well to hear more of thy adventures.
But what didst thou say was thy name? I have forgot it again."

"It is Myles Falworth."

"Then we shall yclep thee Sir Myles, for thou art a soothly
errant-knight. And stay! Every knight must have a lady to serve. How
wouldst thou like my Cousin Alice here for thy true lady?"

"Aye," said Myles, eagerly, "I would like it right well." And then he
blushed fiery red at his boldness.

"I want no errant-knight to serve me," said the Lady Alice, blushing,
in answer. "Thou dost ill tease me, coz! An thou art so free in choosing
him a lady to serve, thou mayst choose him thyself for thy pains."

"Nay," said the Lady Anne, laughing; "I say thou shalt be his true lady,
and he shall be thy true knight. Who knows? Perchance he may serven thee
in some wondrous adventure, like as Chaucer telleth of. But now, Sir
Errant-Knight, thou must take thy leave of us, and I must e'en let thee
privily out by the postern-wicket. And if thou wilt take the risk upon
thee and come hither again, prithee be wary in that coming, lest in
venturing thou have thine ears clipped in most unknightly fashion."

That evening, as he and Gascoyne sat together on a bench under the trees
in the great quadrangle, Myles told of his adventure of the afternoon,
and his friend listened with breathless interest.

"But, Myles," cried Gascoyne, "did the Lady Anne never once seem proud
and unkind?"

"Na