"He twined this knot for your comfort. Throw it over your left shoulder,
and it shall write the first letter of your gallant's name. A cypher of
rare workmanship."
Kate, apparently in anger, snatched the magic ribband, and, peradventure
it might be from none other design than to rid herself of the mystical
love-knot, but she tossed it from her with an air of great contumely,
when, by some disagreeable and untoward accident, it chanced to fly over
the self-same shoulder to which Timothy had referred. He made no reply,
but followed the token with his little grey eyes, apparently without any
sort of aim or concernment. Kate's eyes followed too; but verily it were
a marvellous thing to behold how the ribband shaped itself as it fell,
and yet to see how she stamped and stormed. Quick as the burst of her
proud temper she kicked aside the bauble, but not until the curl of the
letter had been sufficiently manifest. Timothy drew back into his den,
leaving the fair maid to the indulgence of her humours. But in the end
Kate's wrath was not over-difficult to assuage. With an air somewhat
dubious and disturbed she hastily thrust the token behind her stomacher
and departed.
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