Catherine Seyton seemed much struck with this remonstrance--She
suffered herself to drop into the seat which she had quitted when she
went to embrace Dame Mary Fleming, and for some time rested her brow
upon her hands; while Roland Graeme looked at her earnestly, with a
mixture of emotions which perhaps he himself could neither have
analysed nor explained. As she raised her face slowly from the posture
to which a momentary feeling of self-rebuke had depressed it, her eyes
encountered those of Roland, and became gradually animated with their
usual spirit of malicious drollery, which not unnaturally excited a
similar expression in those of the equally volatile page. They sat for
the space of two minutes, each looking at the other with great
seriousness on their features, and much mirth in their eyes, until at
length Catherine was the first to break silence.
"May I pray you, fair sir," she began, very demurely, "to tell me what
you see in my face to arouse looks so extremely sagacious and knowing
as those with which it is your worship's pleasure to honour me? It
would seem as if there were some wonderful confidence and intimacy
betwixt us, fair sir, if one is to judge from your extremely cunning
looks; and so help me, Our Lady, as I never saw you but twice in my
life before."
"And where were those happy occasions," said Roland, "if I may be
bold enough to ask the question?"
"At the nunnery of St. Catherine's," said the damsel, "in the first
instance; and, in the second, during five minutes of a certain raid or
foray which it was your pleasure to make into the lodging of my lord
and father, Lord Seyton, from which, to my surprise, as probably to
your own, you returned with a token of friendship and favour, instead
of broken bones, which were the more probable reward of your
intrusion, considering the prompt ire of the house of Seyton.
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