Supper was quickly served; the oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar; the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were too full. . "Where is the boy?" demanded Sir Rowland. Ruth stared thoughtfully at the waiting coolies. . ’ ‘What matters it?’ cried Melusine impatiently. She was marvellously pretty, but he was not quite sure—yet—that it was advisable for him to sit with her in so public a place. She silently willed him to stop his pacing, to calm down.
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