So under the trees they sauntered, pouring forth their joy at again being with each other. When the first rapture was over, Edward said: “Tell me, Egwina, why thou didst leave me that night, and how thou didst find thy brother? Vainly did I seek for thee; vainly sought in hillock and dale for trace of thee, but naught was there to be found anywhere.” Egwina began where he left her, and told him all her story. When she reached the ordeal, he seized her hand and tore her sleeve and bracelet from her arm. “No scar or burn in truth is there!” he cried. “Oh, blessings on the vala who mixed for Adiva the potion! Blessings also upon Adiva! As for Denewulf—how dared he let thee suffer such a trial?” Egwina laid her hand gently upon his. “It was not Denewulf, Edward. I demanded it, for none were there who believed in my innocence. God alone could show it, for man had forsaken me. Grieve not over it, because of it was I led to Anlaf’s, where I found Siegbert, my brother. Through him was it that thy father did enter our dwelling, and thus, at last, was I brought to thee.” “Truly, it was God’s providence,” answered Edward. “Yet doth my heart beat, and a mist comes before mine eyes at thy hardships. Tell on, brave heart; I will be calm.” “There is but little else to tell,” answered she, and continued her narrative. “Edward, Edward,” called some merry voices as a group of youths and maidens came trooping toward them, “come and join us.” Catching sight of Egwina, they stopped in surprise, and then called joyously: “’Tis Egwina! Egwina hath come to us again!” They gathered round her, welcoming her warmly. Edward took from a maiden near him a garland of cowslips, daisies, and primroses, and kneeling before Egwina said: “Thus do I crown thee my Summer and queen of my heart.” “They have exchanged the true-lofa!” went up the merry shout. “Edward hath chosen his mate! Lord and lady of the Summer are they!” Bursting into a gay song, they joined hands and circled joyously round the loving pair. “Merry is the throstle’s song And blithe the mead doth bloom; For we have brought the Summer home From Winter’s dreary tomb. “Merry is the song of youth And blithely do we sing; For each hath brought his Summer fair To join our mystic ring.” ———— *Best Books For Boys And Girls*