“Nay, Princess,” said Hugh, as she had paused; “sweet as the dream would have been then, I much prefer the reality, and as long as thou wilt speak I will listen.”
“I came to tell thee… that…”
There was a little catch in her throat, but she tried to conquer her emotion and put out both her hands in a pretty, almost childlike appeal.
“Ah, I know! some one has told thee evil of me, and I longed to speak to thee… about… about Amen-het.… They told thee that I am vain and cruel… but… but… wilt believe me if I say… that I am beset with calumnies… and…”
Hugh came a little closer and took one of her tiny, trembling hands in his, and there was no doubt that in his voice, too, there was a slight catch.
“Sweet Princess,” he said gently, “believe me when I say that I have heard no calumny about thee which thy presence hath not by now dispelled.”
She turned her face fully up to his and asked:
“Dost truly mean what thou sayest?”
“I swear it,” he said earnestly.
“Nay! I will believe thee, for thou art great and good. I will believe thee if thou wilt look straight into mine eyes and if thou wilt kiss me between the brows, in token that thou art my friend.”