“Pardon me, if my presence disturbs you. I came to see the count, your father.”
“Then,” said Ethel, in a changed tone, “you only came for my father’s sake.”
The young man bent his head, for these words seemed to him unjust.
“I suppose you have been in Throndhjem a long time,” she continued reproachfully, “I suppose you have been here a long time already? Your absence from this castle cannot have seemed long to you.”
Ordener, deeply wounded, made no reply.
“You are right,” said the prisoner, in a voice which trembled with anger and distress; “but,” she added, in a haughty tone, “I hope, my lord Ordener, that you did not overhear my prayers?”
“Countess,” reluctantly replied the young man, “I did hear you.”
“Ah! my lord Ordener, it was far from courteous to listen.”
“I did not listen, noble Countess,” said Ordener in a low voice; “I overheard you accidentally.”
“I prayed for my father,” rejoined the girl, looking steadily at him, as if expecting an answer to this very simple statement.