“Wait until thou hast seen thy father,” whispered the maiden. “I fear his displeasure.”
“Thou foolish little one! Hath he not been kind to thee?”
“Always and always,” declared she with fervor. “But I am not noble. Naught of gentle blood have I either on the spear side or the spindle side. I fear, Edward, that the king will be displeased with me.”
“Marry, I trow not! Stay thou here, and I will seek him, and soon shall thy fears be quieted. Remain here, Egwina, for I will soon return.”
He hastened back into the house with eager footsteps, and the agitated girl sank down upon the sward. Soon she heard voices, and wishing not to meet any one for a while, she withdrew into the shadows of the trees. It was Alfred himself and his wife, Elswitha.
“Dear lord,” the lady was saying, “hast noted how fair the maiden Egwina groweth?”
“Yea; but not before these last few days. I fear, Elswitha, that soon she, too, will leave us for some other’s abode.”
“My lord, Edward looks upon the maiden with loving eyes.”
“Sayest thou so?” cried Alfred. “Why, the boy is but young! Art thou not mistaken?”
“Nay, a mother’s heart doth not deceive her, Alfred. Thou wert but eighteen thyself when we were wed. Thy son is almost the same age now as thou wert then.”