The vermeil of her lip flushed and paled alternate, from the pink of the wild rose-leaf to the red of its autumnal berry.
But presently, at a glance from her kinsman, Sybilla de Thouars seemed to recall herself with difficulty from a land of dreams, and with an obvious effort began to talk to William Douglas.
"Whom have you brought to see me ?" she said.
"Only a few men-at-arms, besides Sholto my squire, and my brother David," he made answer.

"I did not wait for more.

But let me bring the lad to you.

Sholto you did not like when he was a plain archer of the guard, and I fear that he will not have risen in your grace since I dubbed him knight." David Douglas willingly obeyed the summons of his brother, and came forward to kiss the hand of the Lady Sybilla.
"Here, Sholto," cried his lord, "come hither, man.

It will do your pride good to see a lady who avers that conceit hath eaten you up." Sholto came at the word and bowed before the French damosel as he was commanded, meekly enough to all outward aspect.