"So wicked that your soul would gleam white on new-fallen snow! Beware, wicked maiden! For your naughtiness, you shall be given in marriage--"
"To a foolish prattler," interrupted Rothada, with a quick return of gaiety, and, half stooping, she clasped Olvir's head between her white hands. "What a hero is this for a king's daughter to wed,--a thrall bound by the collar of a maiden!"
"Many a king would gladly kneel where I kneel, dear heart."
"No, no, you foolish hero. Few are so blind as to see beauty where there is none. I am very happy that you love me, dearest; yet I wonder at your love when I think of the many beautiful maidens with Hildegarde. Do you think it strange that I longed to go back to Chelles, when, after all those weary years of waiting, I came upon you in the hall, side by side with that maiden--"
"--Whose very name is unfit for your pure lips," muttered Olvir. "As you love me, darling, have nothing to do with her."
"I will do as you wish, Olvir. Because my heart shrank from her, I had felt it my duty to seek her friendship. But if you bid me shun her--"
"Thank God for your willingness! May we never have need to mention her name again! So now, dear one-- Hark! What is the shouting?"
"The call of the stewards. We linger over-long. The feast is ready; and, oh, dear hero, how shall we come before the king my father?"
"Have no fear, darling. The king has already pledged me your hand. There are terms to be first met; but trust me to see that in good time they be fulfilled or set aside. Until then it seems to me wise that we should keep silent."
"Olvir, I should like to at least tell Hildegarde. She is so gracious and kindly."