Freeheart respectfully approached her, and said to her:
"Your Grace, George of the White Moor, whom you thought to be dead, has returned. I am going to make a song about it."
Still the birds sang:
Teewhit, teewhit, twit, twit,
Is here, here, here,
Is here, here, here.
And when she saw the child coming she had brought up as a son she opened her arms and fell in a swoon.
CHAPTER XIX
TELLS OF A LITTLE SATIN SLIPPER
People were pretty certain in the Clarides that Bee had been carried off by the dwarfs. It was also the belief of the Duchess; but her dreams did not give her any exact information.
"We will find her," said George.
"We will find her," answered Freeheart.