The day after the deliverance of the Sparhawk, Joan had announced her intention of riding on the morrow to Kernsberg. Maurice von Lynar and Von Orseln would accompany her.
"Then," cried Margaret instantly, "I will go, too!"
"The ride would be over toilsome for you," said Joan, pausing to touch her friend's hair as she looked forth from the window of the Castle of Courtland at the Sparhawk ordering about a company of stout countrymen in the courtyard beneath.
"I will go!" said Margaret wilfully. "I shall never let him out of my sight again!"
"We shall be back within the week! You will be both safer and more comfortable here!"
The Princess Margaret withdrew her head from the open window, momentarily losing sight of her husband and, in so doing, making vain her last words.
"Ah, Joan," she said reproachfully, "you are wise and strong—there is no one like you. But you do not know what it is to be married. You never were in love. How, then, can you understand the feelings of a wife?"
She looked out of the window again and waved a kerchief.
"Oh, Joan," she looked back again with a mournful countenance, "I do believe that Maurice does not love me as I love him. He never took the least notice of me when I waved to him!"
"How could he," demanded Joan, the soldier's daughter, sharply, "he was on duty?"