But Aspatria had come to that point of mental suffering when she wanted to know the truth, even though the truth was the worst. Lady Redware saw the determination on her face, and resolved to gratify it. She was shocked at the change in Aspatria's appearance. Her beauty was, in a measure, gone. Her eyes were hollow, and the lids dark and swollen with weeping. Her figure was more angular. The dew of youth, the joy of youth, was over. She drooped like a fading flower. If Ulfar saw her in such condition he might pity, but assuredly he would not admire her. Lady Redware kissed the poor girl. "Come in, my dear," she said kindly. "How ill you look! Here is wine: take a drink." "I am ill. I even hope I am dying. Life is so hard to bear. Ulfar has forgotten me. I have vexed him, and cannot find out in what way. If you would only tell me!" "You have not vexed him at all." "What then?" "He is tired, or he has seen a fresher face. That is Ulfar's great fault. He loves too well, because he does not love very long. Can you not forget him?" "No." "You must have other lovers?" "No. I never had a lover until Ulfar wooed me. I will have none after him. I shall love him until I die." "What folly!" "Perhaps. I am only a foolish child. If I had been wise and clever, he would not have left me. It is my fault. Do you believe he will ever come to Seat-Ambar again?" "I do not think he will. It is best to tell you the truth. My dear, I am truly sorry for you! Indeed I am, Aspatria!" The girl had covered her face with her thin white hands. Her attitude was so hopeless that it brought the tears to Lady Redware's eyes. Hoping to divert her attention, she said,-- "Who called you Aspatria?" "It was my mother's name. She was born in Aspatria, and she loved the place very much." "Where is it, child? I never heard of it." "Not far away, on the sea-coast,--a little town that brother Will says has been asleep for centuries. Such a pretty place, straggling up the hillside, and looking over the sea. Mother was born there, and she is buried there, in the churchyard. It is such an old church, one thousand years old! Mother said it was built by Saint Kentigern. I went there to pray last week, by mother's grave. I thought she might hear me, and help me to bear the suffering." "You poor child! It is shameful of Ulfar!" "He is not to blame. Will told me that it was a poor woman who couldn't keep what she had won." "It was very brutal in Will to say such a thing." "He did not mean it unkindly. We are plain-spoken people, Lady Redware. Tell me, as plainly as Will would tell me, if there is any hope for me. Does Ulfar love me at all now?" "I fear not." "Are you sure?" "I am sure."