So with an effort he turned his gaze aside and assumed once more his customary manner of careless raillery.
"Ah! Mistress Barbara," he cried gaily, again glancing at her garments disarranged and travel-stained, "I vow 'tis too bad of me. I knew it was no path of roses we followed last night, but I little dreamed the journey was so severe an one as this betokens. It was indeed careless of me, and yet I knew no other way. I pray your forgiveness."
"Indeed, there is nought to forgive. Is it not ever a path of thorns that leads to Paradise, and methinks e'en Paradise can scarce be more lovely than this."
He flushed with pleasure.
"You like our camp, madame!"
"'Tis perfection. I have never seen aught so lovely. The forest is a new world to me."
"A new world, and you the queen on't."
"A pretty queen i' faith, in rags and tatters. More like a beggar-maid methinks."
"An all beggar-maids were so, madame, one would judge King Cophetua a man of infinite discernment, and wisest choice."
Her eyes danced in recognition of the compliment, but meeting his glance she deemed it wiser to bring him back to earth.