De Lacy slowly drew forth the bit of lace.

"Rather would I lose a quartering," he said very gently, "yet, in
honor, I may not keep it against your will."

"And honor," said she seriously, as she took the kerchief, "is dearer
far than all our quarterings. . . What brings you back to Pontefract?"

"You," said De Lacy, smilingly.

"Of course! but what else?--be serious."

"I am serious. But for you I would be riding fast and hard after the
Duke. I stopped at Pontefract for two purposes; of which, one was to
deliver to you a message from that gallant Knight, Sir John de Bury."

"My uncle!" she exclaimed. "He is in Scotland."

De Lacy shook his head. "He is now at Craigston Castle, whence I have
just come, and bring you his loving greetings."

"The dear old man! How is he?"

"As strong as an oak, save for a slight wound."

"Wounded! How--where?" she demanded, with sharp concern.

"Only a sword thrust in the thigh, got in a skirmish with some brigands
about this hour yesterday," said De Lacy; and told her the story of the
fray in detail.