“But tell me, how came it all about? How did he manage it in so short a time?”
“Well, brother dear—but you’ll never tell any one, will you?”
“Never—never!”
“Well, you must know, when we first met, we—we—”
“Fell in love. Poor helpless things!”
“Just so, brother; we fell, somehow in—whatever it was; and he told me with his eyes—and—and—I told him with mine. Then he went off to find you; and came back, having found you—for which I was very grateful. Then he went to father and asked leave to speak to me. Then he went to mother. What they said I do not know; but he came straight to me, took my hand, fixed his piercing black eyes on me, and said, ‘Hafrydda, I love you.’”
“Was that all?” asked Bladud.
“Yes; that was all he said; but—but that was not the end of the interview! It would probably have lasted till now, if you had not interrupted us.”
“I’m so very sorry, sister, but of course I did not know that—”
They were interrupted at that moment by the servitor, to whom the reader has already been introduced. He entered with a brightly intelligent grin on his expressive face, but, on beholding Bladud, suddenly elongated his countenance into blank stupidity.