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So came she to him and looked on him with eyes of yearning, yet touched him not. "Dear my lord," said she, tender-voiced, "thou should'st make a noble duke, methinks: and yet alas! needs must I love my gentle Beltane the Smith. And I did love him so! Thou art a mighty man-at-arms, my lord, and terrible in war, meseemeth, O methinks thou wilt make a goodly duke indeed!"
But Sophronia had decided that it was to be and I, "Mine not to make reply; Mine not to reason why; Mine but to do or die." By a merciful dispensation of Providence, however, I was saved from the full measure of the fate I feared. Sophronia has a highly imaginative nature; in her a fancy naturally ethereal has been made super-sensitive by long companionship of tender-voiced poets and romancers.
No tender-voiced, dove-eyed Sister of Orders of Mercy, gliding gray and soft, and like a living psalm of consolation, beside those couches of misery, bore with them the infinite, inexpressible charm that the Friend of the Flag brought to the sufferers.
Then, while he gazed spellbound by her loveliness she laughed a little unsteadily, and flushing beneath his look, turned and fled from him to the door; when he would have followed she stayed him. "Please," she said, tender-voiced, "I want to be alone it is all so wonderful, I want to be alone and think." "I may see you again to-night, Hermione? Dear I must."
For then the Muse was not yet covetous nor a hireling, neither were sweet lays tender-voiced sold with silvered faces by Terpsichore of honeyed speech. But now doth she bid heed the word of the Argive man which keepeth nigh to the paths of truth: 'Money, money maketh man, he said, when robbed of goods at once and friends.
Now, he was equally at a loss to understand why or how the Grand Duchess was replaced by a gentle and tender-voiced maiden, who looked up at him from under her long curved lashes with timid and deprecatory glances. She insisted on mixing his granita herself, and brought it in the one valuable cup Marm Prudence possessed, a beautiful old bit of Lowestoft.
As one that dreamed, Beltane knelt there murmuring the responses, and thus knelt he so long that he started to feel a soft touch upon his cheek, and looking up, behold! they were alone. "Dost dream, my lord?" she questioned, tender-voiced.
"Miss Henderson is an Englishwoman too and our little Ulrica joins the English party." Fraulein's voice had thickened and grown caressing. Perhaps no one was in trouble. Ulrica bowed. Her wide-open startled eyes and the outline of her pale face remained unchanged. Still gentle and tender-voiced Fraulein reached Judy and the Germans. All was well. Soaps and sponges could go in the English bags.
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