y, a rose
garden is a fitting place to receive the ambassadors of a lover,"
she said, and straightened herself on her rustic throne, sweeping her
draperies into more graceful folds. "Bring them to me here, ladybird.
Candida, fetch hither the lace veil from my bower, and call the other
maids as you go, and all the pages you can find. Since Teboen is not by,
I want all of you behind me. I cannot help it that the Tall One always
gives me the feeling of a lamb before a wolf."

Even had the likeness never occurred to her before, it would not have
been strange if she had thought of it to-day as, followed by the Marshal
and preceded by their fair usher, the old warrior came across the grass
to the little court under the apple tree. The keenness of the hooded
eyes that looked out at her from his grizzled locks, the gleam of the
white teeth between his bearded lips as he greeted her, was unmistakably
wolfish. She relapsed into a kind of lamb-like tremor as she invited
them to be seated and commanded the attendance of her cup-bearer. When
she caught sight of the misery of discomfort in Sebert's frank face,
she lost her voice entirely and waited in utter silence while they drank
their wine.

Yet Thorkel's manner was unwontedly genial when at last he broached his
errand. "You lack the eagerness that is to be expected, lady," he said
as he gave his mouth a last polish with the delicate napkin. "How comes
it that you have not guessed I bring you a message from the King?"

She answered doubtfully that the King had not behaved to her so that his
messages were apt to be anticipated with much pleasure.

"But it has never occurred that I brought you this kind of news before,"
he tempted her. "Will it not interest you to hear that at last the
Palace is ready for a Queen?"

That startled her a little out of her wariness, crying the last two
words after him with an eagerness of inflection that was as pathetic as
though her heart were concerned.

His lips gave out a flash as he nodded. "A Queen. Canute is going to
give the Angles a 'gift of the elves.'"

For an instant, she was betrayed into believing him, and bent forward,
her flushing face transfigured with delight. She was starting to speak
when the Etheling rose abruptly from his seat.

"Lord Thorkel," he said angrily, "this cat-play would bring you little
thanks from your King, nor will I longer endure it. I pray you to
explain without delay that the name of 'Elfgiva' is borne a