“I thought, Master Varney,” said the Countess, when she saw he was not likely to open the conversation, “that you had something to communicate from my lord and husband; so at least I understood Master Foster, and therefore I removed my waiting-maid. If I am mistaken, I will recall her to my side; for her needle is not so absolutely perfect in tent and cross-stitch, but what my superintendence is advisable.”
“Lady,” said Varney, “Foster was partly mistaken in my purpose. It was not from, but of your noble husband, and my approved and most noble patron, that I am led, and indeed bound, to speak.”
“The theme is most welcome, sir,” said the Countess, “whether it be of or from my noble husband. But be brief, for I expect his hasty approach.”
“Briefly then, madam,” replied Varney, “and boldly, for my argument requires both haste and courage—You have this day seen Tressilian?”
“I have, sir, and what of that?” answered the lady somewhat sharply.
“Nothing that concerns me, lady,” Varney replied with humility. “But, think you, honoured madam, that your lord will hear it with equal equanimity?”
“And wherefore should he not?—To me alone was Tressilian’s visit embarrassing and painful, for he brought news of my good father’s illness.”
“Of your father’s illness, madam!” answered Varney. “It must have been sudden then—very sudden; for the messenger whom I dispatched, at my lord’s instance, found the good knight on the
