"Yes, indeed," she said to herself, "were justice done, she would now be a princess,--a fit mate for the nobles of the land; and here I ask no more than to mate her to an honest smith,--I that have seen a prince kneel to kiss her mother's hand,--yes, he did,--entreat her on his knees to be his wife,--I saw it. But then, what came of it? Was there ever one of these nobles that kept oath or promise to us of the people, or that cared for us longer than the few moments we could serve his pleasure? Old Elsie, you have done wisely! keep your dove out of the eagle's nest: it is foul with the blood of poor innocents whom he has torn to pieces in his cruel pride!"
These thoughts swelled in silence in the mind of Elsie, while she was busy sorting and arranging her household stores, and making those thousand-and-one preparations known to every householder, whether of much or little, who meditates a long journey.
To Agnes she seemed more than ever severe and hard; yet probably there never was a time when every pulse of her heart was beating more warmly for the child, and every thought of the future was more entirely regulated with reference to her welfare. It is no sinecure to have the entire devotion of a strong, enterprising, self-willed friend, as Agnes had all her life found. One cannot gather grapes of thorns or figs of thistles, and the affection of thorny and thistly natures has often as sharp an acid and as long prickers as wild gooseberries; yet it is their best, and must be so accepted.
Agnes tried several times to offer her help to her grandmother, but was refused so roughly that she dared not offer again, and therefore went to her favorite station by the parapet in the garden, whence she could look up and down the gorge, and through the arches of the old mossy Roman bridge that spanned it far down by the city-wall. All these things had become dear to her by years of familiar silent converse. The little garden, with its old sculptured basin and the ever-lulling dash of falling water; the tremulous draperies of maiden's-hair, always beaded with shining drops; the old shrine, with its picture, its lamp, and flower-vase; the tall, dusky orange-trees, so full of blossoms and fruit, so smooth and shining in their healthy bark,--all seemed to her as so many dear old friends whom she was about to leave, perhaps forever.