“I will go gladly,” he said to his sister, a day or two before the party was to set out. “For your sake, Hafrydda, I will do my best to clear up the mystery; and I think it highly probable that I shall find the runaway safely lodged in her father’s house.”
“I fear not,” returned Hafrydda, with a sad look. “It seems impossible that she could have made her way so far alone through the wild forests.”
“But she may not have been alone. Friends may have helped her.”
“She had no friends in the town, having been here but a short time,” objected the princess. “But do your best to find her, Bladud, for I feel quite sure that you will fall in love with her when you see her.”
The youth laughed.
“No fear of that,” he said, “many a pretty girl have I seen in the East; nevertheless I have, as you see, left them all without a thought of ever returning again.”
“But I did not say you would fall in love with Branwen because she is pretty. I feel sure that you will, because she is sweet, and merry, and good—yet thoughtful—wonderfully thoughtful!”
“Ay, and you may add,” said the queen, who came into the room just then, “that she is sometimes thoughtless and wonderfully full of mischief.”
“Nay, mother, you are not just,” returned the princess. “Her mischief is only on the surface, her thoughtfulness lies deep down.”
“Well, well, whatever may be the truth regarding her, I shall not trouble my head about her; for I have never yet felt what men call love, and I feel sure I never shall.”