"Well, that is easily remedied," said Jurgen, as he blew out the candles, "since women do not blush in the dark." "What do you plan, Messire de Logreus?" "Ah, do not be alarmed!" said Jurgen. "I shall deal fairly with you." And in fact Yolande confessed afterward that, considering everything, Messire de Logreus was very generous. Jurgen confessed nothing: and as the room was profoundly dark nobody else can speak with authority as to what happened there. It suffices that the Duke of Logreus and the Lady of the Green Castle parted later on the most friendly terms. "You have undone me, with your games and your candles and your scrupulous returning of courtesies," said Yolande, and yawned, for she was sleepy; "but I fear that I do not hate you as much as I ought to." "No woman ever does," says Jurgen, "at this hour." He called for breakfast, then kissed Yolande--for this, as Jurgen had said, was their hour of parting,--and he rode away from the Green Castle in high spirits. "Why, what a thing it is again to be a fine young fellow!" said Jurgen. "Well, even though her big brown eyes protrude too much--something like a lobster's--she is a splendid woman, that Dame Yolande: and it is a comfort to reflect I have seen justice was done her." Then he rode back to Cameliard, singing with delight in the thought that he was riding toward the Princess Guenevere, whom he loved with his whole heart. 13. Philosophy of Gogyrvan Gawr At Cameliard the young Duke of Logreus spent most of his time in the company of Guenevere, whose father made no objection overtly. Gogyrvan had his promised talk with Jurgen. "I lament that Dame Yolande dealt over-thriftily with you," the King said, first of all: "for I estimated you two would be as spark and tinder, kindling between you an amorous conflagration to burn up all this nonsense about my daughter." "Thrift, sir," said Jurgen, discreetly, "is a proverbial virtue, and fires may not consume true love." "That is the truth," Gogyrvan admitted, "whoever says it." And he sighed. Then for a while he sat in nodding meditation. Tonight the old King wore a disreputably rusty gown of black stuff, with fur about the neck and sleeves of it, and his scant white hair was covered by a very shabby black cap. So he huddled over a small fire in a large stone fireplace carved with shields; beside him was white wine and red, which stayed untasted while Gogyrvan meditated upon things that fretted him. "Now, then!" says Gogyrvan Gawr: "this marriage with the high King of the Britons must go forward, of course. That was settled last year, when Arthur and his devil-mongers, the Lady of the Lake and Merlin Ambrosius, were at some pains to rescue me at Carohaise. I estimate that Arthur's ambassadors, probably the devil-mongers themselves, will come for my daughter before June is out. Meanwhile, you two have youth and love for playthings, and it is spring."