"What now, Linda?" quoth the other; "thou art always fancying some new thing. I have scant patience with thy whims. What do I know of thy trinkets, or of thy lovers? Thou art like a skilful bowman, who has a second string to his bow ready to hand. But when thou dost find that such a game has its perils, and that thou art playing with edge tools, prithee do not seek to drag me in to help thee out of the slough. It is a paltry trick, and unworthy of thy name."
"But Lotta—"
"Peace, child! I will hear no more. I am sick to death of thee and thy lovers! Let me alone. Manage thine own affairs as thou wilt, but no word shalt thou have from me. Go, and do as thou dost choose. Play them one against the other, and see what comes of it. I will have nothing to do with the matter; it is no concern of mine."
And Lotta swept out of the room with her whirlwind air of displeasure, whilst Linda looked in perplexity at Joanna, and asked piteously,—
"Why is she so changed to me?"
"I fear me it is jealousy," answered Joanna, who had seen a great deal during the weeks that the twins had been with them. Joanna had been friendly with both from childhood, but had always liked Linda best. Now she began to find that she loved Linda and rather disliked and feared Lotta. There was something wild and untamed in her nature, and her conduct towards her sister often provoked the indignation of the onlooker.
"Jealousy!" repeated Linda, with rising colour.
"Ay, jealousy of what she sees betwixt thee and Hugh le Barbier," answered Joanna. "Hast thou not seen that Lotta has gone nigh to lose her heart to yon courtly youth? I have observed it these many weeks, and once I did think that he might return her regard; but it seems plain now that his fancy has been elsewhere fixed, and poor Lotta has to bear the pain of seeing it too."
Linda's cheeks were scarlet; she faltered as she spoke.
"Methought Lotta was pleased by the notice of Roger. I had thought that her fancy went that way."