"About me?" So much hurt surprise was in Randalin's manner that the little
maid begged forgiveness with caresses of the swaying clover.
"Be not vexed, honey, but in truth he is overcome by the oddest look
whensoever he watches you without your seeing,--as though he were not sure of
you, in some way, and yet-- Oh, I cannot explain it! Only tell me this,--does
he not ask you, many times and oft, if you love him, or if others love you, or
such like?"
In the midst of shaking her head, Randalin paused and her mouth became as
round as her eyes. "Foolishly do I recall it! As if he would! And yet--
Dearwyn, he has asked me four times if any Danes visit us here. Would you
think that he could be--"
"Jealous?" Dearwyn dropped her flowers to clap her hands softly. "Tata, I have
guessed his distemper rightly. Let no one say that I am not a witch for
cleverness! Ah, you can have the best fun that ever any maid could have! If
you could but make him believe something about that Danishman that Teboen saw
last winter!"
"Last winter?" Randalin repeated. "Oh! I had altogether forgotten him. It
seems that it has not been truthfully spoken when--"
The little Angle smothered the rest in her rapturous embrace. "The ring,
Tata,-- that would be the cream of all! Let him think that Rothgar gave it to
you, that he is your lover! I would give many kirtles to see his face.
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