"Tush," said Varney, "what has the surly groom to do with your
ladyship's concerns?--no more, surely, than the ban-dog which watches
his courtyard. If he is in aught distasteful to your ladyship, I have
interest enough to have him exchanged for a seneschal that shall be more
agreeable to you."
"Master Varney," said the Countess, "let us drop this theme. When I
complain of the attendants whom my lord has placed around me, it must be
to my lord himself.--Hark! I hear the trampling of horse. He comes! he
comes!" she exclaimed, jumping up in ecstasy.
"I cannot think it is he," said Varney; "or that you can hear the tread
of his horse through the closely-mantled casements."
"Stop me not, Varney--my ears are keener than thine. It is he!"
"But, madam!--but, madam!" exclaimed Varney anxiously, and still placing
himself in her way, "I trust that what I have spoken in humble duty and
service will not be turned to my ruin? I hope that my faithful advice
will not be bewrayed to my prejudice? I implore that--"
"Content thee, man--content thee!" said the Countess, "and quit my
skirt--you are too bold to detain me. Content thyself, I think not of
thee."
At this moment the folding-doors flew wide open, and a man of majestic
mien, muffled in the folds of a long dark riding-cloak, entered the
apartment.