Then Edith's heart heaved, and her eyes brightened.

And now, with his hawk on his wrist, and his spear [109] in his hand, came, through the yellowing boughs, Harold the Earl.
And well may ye ween, that his heart beat as loud and his eye shone as bright as Edith's, when he saw who had watched for his footsteps on the sepulchral knoll; Love, forgetful of the presence of Death;--so has it ever been, so ever shall it be! He hastened his stride, and bounded up the gentle hillock, and his dogs, with a joyous bark, came round the knees of Edith.

Then Harold shook the bird from his wrist, and it fell, with its light wing, on the altar-stone of Thor.
"Thou art late, but thou art welcome, Harold my kinsman," said Edith, simply, as she bent her face over the hounds, whose gaunt heads she caressed.
"Call me not kinsman," said Harold, shrinking, and with a dark cloud on his broad brow.
"And why, Harold ?" "Oh, Edith, why ?" murmured Harold; and his thought added, "she knows not, poor child, that in that mockery of kinship the Church sets its ban on our bridals." He turned, and chid his dogs fiercely as they gambolled in rough glee round their fair friend.
The hounds crouched at the feet of Edith; and Edith looked in mild wonder at the troubled face of the Earl.
"Thine eyes rebuke me, Edith, more than my words the hounds!" said Harold, gently.

"But there is quick blood in my veins; and the mind must be calm when it would control the humour.

Calm was my mind, sweet Edith, in the old time, when thou wert an infant on my knee, and wreathing, with these rude hands, flower-chains for thy neck like the swan's down, I said, 'The flowers fade, but the chain lasts when love weaves it.'" Edith again bent her face over the crouching hounds.