I have only won her by submission, and shall I spoil all at the last moment, by opposing her inclinations?
Of a truth not." "Who is the maiden with her ?" demanded Sir Giles, scrutinizing Aveline, with a keen glance.

"Why does she wear a muffler?
Is that a whim, likewise ?" "Perchance it is," replied Sir Francis; "but I have given no consent to it.

She is only the tire-woman." "Come, mistress, unmuffle.

Let us see your face," cried Sir Giles, striding towards the terrified maiden, who thought discovery was now inevitable.
But Luke Hatton interposed to save her.
"Prevent this rudeness," he whispered, plucking Sir Francis's cloak.
"Prevent it instantly.

If her whim be thwarted, I will not answer for the consequences." "Desist, Sir Giles--desist, I pray you!" cried the old usurer, in alarm.
"It is my bride's wish that her attendant be not interfered with--and mine too." "Well, be it as you will," replied the extortioner, testily.