As dinner progressed she made herself so pleasant that the room rang with joy and merriment, and she pressed all the most delicate dishes on the youngest brother; nor did she fail to notice that whenever he addressed either of his companions as ‘brother,’ which he did frequently, the two exchanged covert glances of annoyance.
“All is not right here,” she exclaimed under her breath, “for, were he the great lord they say, there are no two men alive who would more willingly call him a relation!” And she smiled rather slyly.
“Why do you smile, wife?” asked the second brother.
“My love,” replied she, “at finding so great a personage a member of your family.”
No one knew what to say, for the youngest brother feared she was laughing at them all, and the two elder were sure of it.
However, time flew, the wine sparkled, the hot roast dishes smoked, and it was hard to say which of the four was in the best humour.
When the feast was done the girl got up, and, taking a silver candlestick from the table, said:
“Husband, I see that our guest is weary with travelling and his eyes heavy with sleep. I myself will show him the guest-chamber, and assure myself that the servants have made his bed well.”
So saying, she led the youngest brother to the room prepared for him, walking before him with the lights. As he went he could not cease admiring the fine plaits of dark hair which hung down her back and regretting that the evening was over and he would be so soon deprived of her company.
When they got to the bedchamber, she made every pretext to remain away from the dining-room as long as possible, smoothing the pillows and drawing the window-curtains close, that the starlight might not disturb his sleep. When she had bidden him good-night, she went downstairs as slowly as she could.