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"The lady of my love shall be a high-born maid who knows no more of the world's roughness than I of woman's ways. Nor shall she follow me at all, but stay modestly at home with her maids and keep herself gentle and fair against my return. Deliver me from your sun-browned, boy-bred wenches!"
At last she stood face to face with the man she loved, face to face, and alone. And still he neither spoke to her nor looked at her! So strange and terrible was it all that it gave her resolution to speak and end it. Her Viking blood could not color her cheeks, but her Viking courage found her a whisper in which to offer her plea for the "sun-browned boy-bred wench."
Sometime, when we have a long time to be together, I will tell you everything that I have had in my breast and you shall show me everything that you have had in yours, but but let us wait, sweetheart, until our happiness seems more real than our sorrow. Even yet I do not like the thought of the 'sun-browned boy-bred wench." She laughed a little unsteadily at the sudden crimsoning of his face.
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