At that moment Dorothy came out of the tower gate, dressed for the ride.

Surely no woman was ever more beautiful than she that morning.
"Tom-Tom, where are you taking the horse ?" she cried.
"To the stable, Mistress," answered the servant.

"Sir Malcolm says he will go with you." Dorothy's joyousness vanished.

From radiant brightness her expression changed in the twinkling of an eye to a look of disappointment so sorrowful that I at once knew there was some great reason why she did not wish me to ride with her.

I could not divine the reason, neither did I try.