"I meant dear and good to me, because I think he
was thinking of me, and it was for my sake he wanted us to meet."
It would have been hard to convince a woman, if she had overheard this
speech, that Miss Sherwood's humility was not the calculated affectation
of a coquette. Sometimes a man's unsuspicion is wiser, and Harkless knew
that she was not flirting with him. In addition, he was not a fatuous man;
he did not extend the implication of her words nearly so far as she would
have had him.
"But I had met you," said he, "long ago."
"What!" she cried, and her eyes danced. "You actually remember?"
"Yes; do you?" he answered. "I stood in Jones's field and heard you
singing, and I remembered. It was a long time since I had heard you sing:
"'I was a ruffler of Flanders,
And fought for a florin's hire.
You were the dame of my captain
And sang to my heart's desire.'
"But that is the balladist's notion. The truth is that you were a lady at
the Court of Clovis, and I was a heathen captive. I heard you sing a
Christian hymn--and asked for baptism." By a great effort he managed to
look as if he did not mean it.
But she did not seem over-pleased with his fancy, for, the surprise fading
from her face, "Oh, that was the way you remembered!" she said.
"Perhaps it was not that way alone.
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