Margaret whispered her: “Do not gainsay him now. Give his choler time to cool!”
Kate turned quickly towards her. “Let me look at your face?” The inspection was favourable, it seemed, for she whispered: “It is a comely face, and no mischief-maker's.”
“Fear me not,” said Margaret, in the same tone. “I could not be happy without your love, as well as Gerard's.”
“These are comfortable words,” sobbed Kate. Then, looking up, she said, “I little thought to like you so well. My heart is willing, but my infirmity will not let me embrace you.”
At this hint, Margaret wound gently round Gerard's sister, and kissed her lovingly.
“Often he has spoken of you to me, Kate; and often I longed for this.”
“You, too, Gerard,” said Kate; “kiss me ere you go; for my heart lies heavy at parting with you this night.”
Gerard kissed her, and she went on her crutches home. The last thing they heard of her was a little patient sigh. Then the tears came and stood thick in Margaret's eyes. But Gerard was a man, and noticed not his sister's sigh.
As they turned to go to Sevenbergen, the dwarf nudged Gerard with his bundle of parchments and held out a concave claw.
Margaret dissuaded Gerard. “Why take what is not ours?”