Homesick and heartsick, the waif in the page's dress was left facing the
unfriendly glances. Even in her bravest days, she had never known what it was
to be disliked, and now--! Suddenly she limped after her friend and caught at
his cloak.
"Let me go with you," she cried. "I beseech it of you! I want not their
service."
After a moment, the Etheling threw his arm protectingly around the boyish
figure.
"I do not blame you, poor youngling," he said. "I was wrong to treat you as a
child when you were bred up as a man. You shall have a bed in the closet off
my chamber, and they shall not enter except as you will it. And you shall eat
off my plate and drink from my cup. Come!"
Chapter XII
The Foreign Page
Early should rise
He who has few workers,
And go his work to see to;
Greatly is he retarded
Who sleeps the morn away;
Wealth half depends on energy.
Ha'vama'l.
It was August, when Mother Earth had nearly completed her task of providing
for her children, and the excitement of a mighty work drawing to its close was
in the air; when the sun-warmed stillness was a-quiver with the of growing
things coming to their strength, and every cloudless day held in its golden
heart a song of exultation. The grassy space around the Tower, which was wont
to be thronged with joyous idlers, was to-day almost deserted.
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