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 old weakness of his for black eyes and a well moulded breast; he had a good deal of trouble, for beauty and sense are not often met with in the same skin. But at last, when he was beginning to grow desperate, he saw one day at the Castle of Estrighoil a pair of eyes that pierced to his heart in the old delicious way, and on enquiry he found that the young lady to whom they belonged was called Eva de St. Pol and was of French parentage but had been an orphan for many years. And hearing from all hands sunset accounts of her, her beauty and her virtues, and being himself altogether in love with her innocent beseeching face, exquisite curves, and gracious ways, he in due form craved her hand of the Lord of Estrighoil who was her guardian and had authority over her. And as Sir Roger was known to have lined his coat pretty warmly with gold besants and was besides a very gentle and perfect knight who had maintained the honour of the Marches full valorously in the lands beyond sea, my lord and lady of Estrighoil considered him a good match for Eva who was poor and hardly had a carucate of land that she could call her own. As for the maid she made no difficulty over the business (not that it would have gone for much if she had) since she was sharp enough to find out that the old knight was deeply dyed with love for her, and hence Madam Eva foresaw that she would get her own way with him and rule Joyously [sic] at Penhow. Of course she had one or two scruples over her betrothal, and could not help thinking rather sadly of the pretty speeches a