"It is well," said Jack in a broken voice. "It is but the fulfilment of long expectation, and it is better so. I am an old man whatever, and shall but become daily less fit for the guardianship of so much beauty. So fair a flower could ne'er be left to bloom alone, and then wither and die upon these lonely river-banks. It is but right that it should e'en be transplanted without delay to some fair garden, where other peerless blossoms shall be fain to hang their heads before its radiant beauty, and where the highest culture this world can give shall bring it yet to greater and more complete perfectness! Yet I can but fear me lest the world may sully my blossom's sweet purity, and by adding more earthly bloom, dim Heaven's own pure loveliness!" "Hush, dear dad, I pray you!" cried Primrose, hiding her blushing, tearful face in her hands. "You would fain turn my poor head, ere I leave you, with your loving speeches! Yet I will ever pray that I may ne'er be less worthy of them than you now account me. And doubt not that, after my own dear mother, and perchance the father of whom she tells me nought, you will ever have the first place in my thoughts." "That were a rash promise, sweet one!" said Jack, a humorous smile lighting up his rugged face. "Where will you then put your husband whatever?" "Ah, I had forgotten him!" said Primrose innocently; then, colouring crimson at so bold a speech, she hid her face, and trembled at the thoughts which followed her careless words. "He dwells then already in your thoughts--is it so?" said Jack, with a half-sigh. "Ah, well! 'Tis ever so with young men and maidens, and I will not grudge thee to one who is worthy. Indeed, I could easier give thee up to a tender husband's care than to this unknown mother! Yet I know not verily who shall be accounted worthy to wear my sweet flower next his heart, since even the gay Sir Tristram, who had lands and gold and a handsome countenance to boot, must needs be sent away weeping!" "I have looked upon the sun," said Primrose quietly, "and beside his light all other stars look pale. Perchance, dear dad, I may never wed. Do you not remember how on my hand the gipsy saw no marriage?" And she laughed lightly. "Beshrew the old witch and her vile sayings!" exclaimed Jack indignantly. "My bridge bears a living testimony to her falseness, for it stands as stoutly as of yore, in spite of her warnings, and your marriage, my sweet one, hangs upon no wicked words of hers." "Nay, I did but jest," answered Primrose; "yet ever and anon I call her words to mind, and her wild song about the Primrose and the Lily rings in my ears. If I must some day sleep in the river, I would fain know who is the Lily who shall sleep there with me, and why so mournful a fate must needs be promised us!" "She can know nought of the 'lily-knight,'" she added to herself, musingly; "and even if she should know of there being one so called,