So deep was Evander in his book that he did not hear a lady's
footfalls on the grass. When the discomfited Sir Blaise had quitted
the arena Brilliana held herself unseen and then swiftly sped back to
the pleasaunce. She stood for some seconds on the threshold of a yew
arch watching the reading man and wondering why it had pleased
Providence to make a Puritan so personable and skilful, wondering why
she of all women should take any interest either in his person or in
his skill, wondering how long he would remain buried in his tiresome
book unconscious of her presence. She decided that she would slip
away and leave him ignorant of her coming, and having decided that,
she coughed loudly, at which sound, of course, he turned round, saw
her, and rose respectfully to his feet.
"I fear I trespass in your paradise," he said, wistfully.
"My honor, no!" Brilliana cried, pretending to look about her
anxiously. "But where is Sir Blaise? I hope you two did not quarrel."
"No, no," Evander protested; "we parted on clasped hands. Some
pressing matter called him to his quarters."
"Did you pay him apology for your equivocal wit?" Brilliana asked,
demurely.