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Whistler, Charles W. (Charles Watts), 1856-1913

"A Prince of Cornwall A Story of Glastonbury and the West in the Days of Ina of Wessex"

I began to wish that I had brought Thorgils home
with me, for it was plain that I should have to go over all this
too often, and he cared not at all how many times he told the same
tale.
At last I was able to find a chance of asking how fared the lady
Elfrida, and at that the ealdorman laughed.
"What, has not all this put that foolishness out of your head?" he
said.
"No, it has not," I answered pretty shortly.
But all the same, the old thought that I had remembered her less
than I would have it known did flash across me for a moment.
"Well, I will send for her, and she will tell you for herself how
she fares."
He sent, and then in about half an hour she came, just as I was
thinking I would wait no longer. And if she had been stiff with me
in the orchard it was even more so now, and I did not seem to get
on with her at all. She said, indeed, that she was glad to see me
back, but in no way could I think that she looked more so than any
one else I had met.
So we talked a little, and then all of a sudden her father said:
"Ho!--Here comes that South Saxon again."
Then at once a blush crept slowly over her fair face, and she tried
not to look toward the great door in vain, though no one came in,
and presently she was gone with but a few words to me. I did not
like this at all, but the ealdorman laughed at her and then at me,
the more that he saw that I was put out.


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