All the lads and lassies had set out soon after midnight, with horns and other music, to neighboring woods, breaking boughs off the trees and decking themselves with wreaths and posies. Homeward then they turned, and at sunrise set these bushes in the doors and windows of their houses. Feasting and games followed, and joyous was the day. Bright the mead and green the woodland that stretched from the palace, and merrily resounded horns and song upon the air. As they neared the manor, Egwina’s step grew slower, and she trembled. Alfred drew her close to his side, and bade her lean upon him for support. From one of a group of merry-makers a young man detached himself, and came toward them with light, quick steps. It was Edward. “My father,” he cried, “glad am I that thou hast returned. Somewhat of uneasiness did we feel that thou didst not come sooner, but now—” He stopped short, catching sight of Egwina for the first time. Over his face flashed immediately incredulity, surprise, and delight in quick succession. So great was his amazement that he spoke not, but looked at the maiden as though he were afraid a word would dissolve the vision. “Son, hast thou no word of welcome for thy bride?” Alfred spoke cheerily. “A laggard will she think thee if thou dost not greet her. Thy father hath brought thee thy bride. Shall he woo her for thee also?” He stooped and kissed the maiden’s brow, and then, leading her to Edward, joined their hands together, saying: “I have brought thee home thy summer, Edward. Take her, and forever keep that summer in thy heart. I cannot express all her merit. Prudent and modest is she, and none excelleth her in purity. She lives now for thee—thee alone. Hence she loves naught else but thee. Let her waste not for thy love, and suffer naught to come between thee. As thou dealest with her, so may God deal with thee.” “So may God deal with me,” repeated Edward, solemnly. “Welcome, my bride, and thrice welcome! Never more shall we be parted. We two will live with but one heart and one purpose.” “Welcome also thy bride’s brother,” and the king brought Siegbert forward. “Hast thou room in thy heart for another brother? Marry! once I thought him loth to let thee have Egwina, and hard did I plead for thee.” “But now?” and Edward greeted Siegbert in his frank, winning way. “Now that I have seen thee, I am content,” answered Siegbert. “It doth surprise me to behold in thee a brother to Egwina,” said Edward, his hand still clasping that of Siegbert. “I wotted not that she possessed any that were sibbe to her.” “’Tis a long story,” and Alfred drew Siegbert away with him and turned toward the palace. “While we greet the Lady Elswitha, do thou tell him it, Egwina. Join us anon in the hall, Edward.” Edward held out his hands to the maiden. “Let us wander under the trees,” he said. “Henceforth and forever hand-in-hand.”