"
"Rothgar?" Randalin's voice was light with scorn. "As likely would! be to
think him love-struck for the serving-wench who sparkled her eyes at him, as
he to think that Rothgar Lodbroksson could count for aught with me! Yet I say
nothing against the fun it would be. It may be that if he take notice of the
thing and question me--just to see how he would look--" She broke off
discreetly, but the one elf which the Abbot had not exorcised crept out and
danced in the dimple of her cheek.
Dearwyn shook her floral rod with an assumption of severity. "I trust he will
be sorely disquieted," she said. "He deserves no otherwise for his behavior
last winter. Are you so soft of heart, Tata, that you are never going to
reckon with him for that?"
The dimple-elf took wing and all the mischief in the girl's eyes seemed to go
with him. "Those days are buried," she said. "Let the earth grow green above
them." And suddenly she leaned forward and hid her face on the other's
shoulder. "Bring them not before me, Dearwyn, my friend, until I am a little
surer of my happiness. It is so new yet, Dearwyn, so new! And it came to me so
suddenly that sometimes it almost seems as if it might depart as suddenly from
me." A while they nestled together without speaking, the little maid's cheek
resting lovingly on her friend's dark hair.
It was a page thrusting aside the arras that broke the spell.
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