I have not asked you, good heart, if her sister be still on live, here overhead; I had no need; ye had gone back, else, and not left the poor thing forsaken--" "She lieth at peace," interrupted the king, in a subdued voice.
"I would not change it.

How rich is this day in happiness! Ah, my Annis, thou shalt join thy sister soon--thou'rt on thy way, and these be merciful friends that will not hinder." And so she fell to murmuring and cooing over the girl again, and softly stroking her face and hair, and kissing her and calling her by endearing names; but there was scarcely sign of response now in the glazing eyes.

I saw tears well from the king's eyes, and trickle down his face.

The woman noticed them, too, and said: "Ah, I know that sign: thou'st a wife at home, poor soul, and you and she have gone hungry to bed, many's the time, that the little ones might have your crust; you know what poverty is, and the daily insults of your betters, and the heavy hand of the Church and the king." The king winced under this accidental home-shot, but kept still; he was learning his part; and he was playing it well, too, for a pretty dull beginner.

I struck up a diversion.