"My lord," she said, "welcome to Windthorpe Chace."

"Madam," the earl said, bowing over the hand she extended, until
his lips almost touched her fingers, "I am indeed indebted to the
fellows who thought to do me harm, in that they have been the means
of my making the acquaintance of a lady whose charms turned all
heads in London, and who left the court in gloom when she retired
to the country."

Nowadays, such a speech as this would be thought to savour of
mockery, but gentlemen two hundred years since ordinarily addressed
women in the language of high-flown compliment.

Mistress Holliday, despite her thirty-seven years, was still very
comely, and she smiled as she replied:

"My lord, ten years' absence from court has rendered me unused to
compliments, and I will not venture to engage in a war, even of
words, with so great a general."

Supper was now announced, and the earl offered his hand to lead
Mistress Dorothy to the dining hall.

The meal passed off quietly, the conversation turning entirely upon
country matters. The earl did full justice to the fare, which
consisted of a stuffed carp, fresh from the well-stocked ponds of
the Chace, a boar's head, and larded capon, the two latter dishes
being cold. With these were served tankards of Burgundy and of
sherries. Rupert, as was the custom of the younger members of
families, waited upon the honoured guest.