The keeper's wife served them with smiles and curtsies, and then discreetly disappeared.

Falloden waited on Constance as a squire on his princess; and all round them lay the green encircling rampart of the wood.

In the man's every action, there was the homage of one who only keeps silence because the woman he loves imposes it.

But Constance again felt that recurrent fear creeping over her.

She had been a fool--a fool! He escorted her to the gate of the wood where Joseph was waiting.
"And now for our next merry meeting ?" he said, as he got down to tighten her stirrup which had stretched a little.
Constance hurriedly said she could not promise--there were so many engagements.
Falloden did not press her.