Ellen said:--"Now, my dear Mordaunt, I really feel as if I were at home again, and can _do the honours_ (as you term it) of this little table very tolerably; but if, as I suspect, you are much visited by high people near you, will you not often have to blush for your awkward little rustic?" "If I had feared that," answered Mordaunt, "I would not have ventured it; but, as I have often told you, the natural propriety of your manner will very well supply the place of artificial graces; and as to the mere forms of society, they are so easily acquired, you will speedily attain them: but tell me, Ellen, after the cursory view you have had of something more refined, could you now be contented to sit down here for the rest of your life?" "With you," replied the tender Ellen, "I could be not only contented but happy any where yet I own _you_ seem to me formed for something so superior, that I should forever regret your being confined to a sphere so limited." Mordaunt, delighted with the sweetness of her words and manners, scarcely knew how to express how greatly he was pleased with all she said. After a few minutes he opened the little casement, for the day was mild and clear, more like spring than the beginning of November; and gathering some late blossoms of a white jassamine, which grew round it, and in that sheltered spot, so soft had been the season, still retained their beauty: he twisted them with some very small vine leaves across her brow, amongst her fine hair, in a very particular style, and making her look in the little glass which hung in the room where they sat, he said:-- "There, Ellen, _that_ is very like a countess's coronet; the jasmine may pass for pearls, and the little branch of the vine for strawberry leaves: how should you like one in pearls or diamonds? I think it becomes you inimitably well." "This simple wreath may," she said, smiling as she surveyed herself; "but I believe that this little rustic person would not assort very well with the splendid ornament you describe." He smiled, and said--"Do not take it off, but sit down, and I will tell you a story." "A story!--delightful! I hope it is entertaining." "Very, and perfectly true. _Once upon a time_: do you like that beginning?" "Not much; it is too childish: try again." "Well then, once in the days of King Arthur----" "Oh! do not go quite so far back--your story will last all day." "What! a Welsh girl and not like to hear a tale of King Arthur. Oh! most degenerate damsel." Ellen still laughing, said--"Come, dear Mordaunt, make haste, I long to hear this interesting story." He placed himself at her side, and with some agitation, said:--