Cows and heifers all!
On the Alp is richest feeding,
Thither then with cautious heeding,
Follow where the Queen is leading,
Cows and heifers all!”
The words were mere doggerel, the air simple and primitive, but somehow the effect was magical. Honor felt the very spirit of the place enter into her. It was good to be here! If she might only stay always! Why not? She was a poor orphan, with no kin that she had ever seen; she could not stay in school all her life. What more delightful than to become a sennerin of the Alps? To live here, with the Twins and Zitli: to learn to spin and weave, to make butter and cheese. She would be their little sister; it would be heavenly!
Honor glanced up shyly under her long eyelashes at Atli where he sat opposite her. How splendid he was! Just so, and no otherwise, must Hercules have looked; or Roland, or Lancelot—no, Lancelot’s hair was black! Siegfried, then! or Baldur the Beautiful! Yes, that was best; if only Baldur were a prettier name—it made one think of baldness, and his hair was so wonderful. She glanced again: Atli was intent on his shoemaking. The firelight played on his crisp yellow curls, turning them to threads of gold; on his broad white forehead, his brown cheeks, his massive yet shapely arms and hands. Truly, a splendid figure of a man. Honor’s heart fluttered a little, as fourteen-year-old hearts will flutter. If—if only she had dark hair! if some day—
Half consciously she dropped into her story, neglected now these many days; began “telling” to herself, while the yarn flew over her hands, and the fire glowed and crackled.
“While yet little more than a child I met him who was thenceforth to dominate my life. It was among the Alps, in a simple châlet, humble, yet more delightful than many a turreted castle I have seen. Around were all the glories of Nature (and then I can put in a description of the sunset last night, you know), and he was like his own mountains, rugged and grand and glorious. He was my opposite in every way, though our souls were alike. (Here followed an accurate description of Atli.) Something in me—it may have been my night-black tresses and starry eyes—attracted him. He turned his flashing glance upon me—”
At this moment Atli looked up and his eyes met Honor’s. They did not flash, but they were very pleasant and friendly.