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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 483 pages of information about St. George and St. Michael.

Dorothy cast one involuntary glance at her cousin.  His face was red as fire, but, as it seemed to her, more with suppressed amusement than shame.  She had not been much longer in the castle before she learned that, in the opinion of the household, the marquis did his best, or worst rather, to ruin young Scudamore by indulgence.  The judgment, however, was partly the product of jealousy, although doubtless the marquis had in his case a little too much relaxed the bonds of discipline.  The youth was bright and ready, and had as yet been found trustworthy; his wit was tolerable, and a certain gay naivete of speech and manner set off to the best advantage what there was of it; but his laughter was sometimes mischievous, and on the present occasion Dorothy could not rid herself of the suspicion that he was laughing in his sleeve at his master, which caused her to redden in her turn.  Scudamore saw it, and had his own fancies concerning the phenomenon.

CHAPTER XII.

The two marquises.

Dinner over, lady Margaret led Dorothy back to her parlour, and there proceeded to discover what accomplishments and capabilities she might possess.  Finding she could embroider, play a little on the spinnet, sing a song, and read aloud both intelligibly and pleasantly, she came to the conclusion that the country-bred girl was an acquisition destined to grow greatly in value, should the day ever arrive—­which heaven forbid!—­when they would have to settle down to the monotony of a protracted siege.  Remarking, at length, that she looked weary, she sent her away to be mistress of her time till supper, at half-past five.

Weary in truth with her journey, but still more weary from the multitude and variety of objects, the talk, and the constant demand of the general strangeness upon her attention and one form or other of suitable response, Dorothy sought her chamber.  But she scarcely remembered how to reach it.  She knew it lay a floor higher, and easily found the stair up which she had followed her attendant, for it rose from the landing of the straight ascent by which she had entered the house.  She could hardly go wrong either as to the passage at the top of it, leading back over the room she had just left below, but she could not tell which was her own door.  Fearing to open the wrong one, she passed it and went on to the end of the corridor, which was very dimly lighted.  There she came to an open door, through which she saw a small chamber, evidently not meant for habitation.  She entered.  A little light came in through a crossed loophole, sufficient to show her the bare walls, with the plaster sticking out between the stones, the huge beams above, and in the middle of the floor, opposite the loop-hole, a great arblast or crossbow, with its strange machinery.  She had never seen one before, but she knew enough to guess at once what it was.  Through the loophole came a sweet breath of spring air, and she saw trees bending in the wind, heard their faint far-off rustle, and saw the green fields shining in the sun.

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