“A king of long ago, Alice,” Lady Betty explained, “I have heard the legend from my old Welsh nurse, and part of it relates to his wife, his queen. She was very beautiful, and she had never seen the king when the marriage was arranged.”
“Oh, mercy on us, madam!” exclaimed Alice, “and she didn’t know what he looked like?”
“Not at all,” declared her mistress, “and she set out with all her maidens to go to his kingdom to be married—”
“Indeed, my lady, couldn’t he come for her—like a decent civil gentleman?” asked Alice rousing up.
“No, no, he couldn’t come,” said Lady Clancarty, “but he sent his best friend, a brave and noble knight, to meet her, and she—she thought he was the king in disguise and—and she fell in love with him, and when she found out her mistake, and that the king was wholly unlike this knight, she couldn’t love her husband—she loved instead his friend.”
“My goodness, Lady Betty, how improper!” said Alice horrified, “his friend was a false man—and no true knight!”
Lady Betty had been sitting on the edge of Alice’s bed but she rose now and stood quite still, her white figure showing in the darkness.
“But, Alice, she was so beautiful, so fascinating—he couldn’t help it, he loved her!”
“He could help it,” said Alice stoutly, “he stole her love from her husband! He could help it, just as a man can help stealing a horse.”