Kenelm sighed. Was it from envy, from pity, from fear? I know not; but he sighed.
After a brief pause, the lady said, still in low tones, but not too low this time to escape Kenelm's fine sense of hearing,—
"Tell me those verses again. I must remember every word of them when you are gone."
The man shook his head gently, and answered, but inaudibly.
"Do," said the lady; "set them to music later; and the next time you come I will sing them. I have thought of a title for them."
"What?" asked the minstrel.
"Love's quarrel."
The minstrel turned his head, and their eyes met, and, in meeting, lingered long. Then he moved away, and with face turned from her and towards the river, gave the melody of his wondrous voice to the following lines:—
LOVE'S QUARREL.
"Standing by the river, gazing on the river,
See it paved with starbeams,—heaven is at our feet;
Now the wave is troubled, now the rushes quiver;
Vanished is the starlight: it was a deceit.