“I know not which will seem the worse,” went on her father, “that it be said that you have cast off Simon, or that he has cast you off. Sir Andres sent me word—” Lavrans flushed red as he said it, “—he was wroth with the lad, and bade me crave such amends as I should think fit. I had to say what was true—I know not if aught else had been better—that, should there be amends to make, ’twas rather for us to make them. We are shamed either way.” “I cannot think there is such great shame,” said Kristin low. “Since Simon and I are of one mind.” “Of one mind?” repeated Lavrans. “He did not hide from me that he was unhappy, but he said, after you had spoken together, he deemed naught but misfortune could come of it if he held you to the pact.—But now must you tell me how this has come over you.” “Has Simon said naught?” asked Kristin. “It seemed as though he thought,” said her father, “that you have given your love to another man—Now must you tell me how this is, Kristin.” Kristin thought for a little. “God knows,” said she in a low voice, “I see well, Simon might be good enough for me, and maybe too good. But ’tis true that I came to know another man; and then I knew I would never have one happy hour more in all my life, were I to live it out with Simon—not if all the gold in England were his to give—I would rather have the other if he owned no more than a single cow—” “You look not that I should give you to a serving-man, I trow?” said her father. “He is as well born as I, and better,” answered Kristin. “I meant but this—he has enough both of lands and goods, but I would rather sleep with him on the bare straw than with another man in a silken bed—” Her father was silent for a while. “’Tis one thing, Kristin, that I will not force you to take a man that likes you not—though God and St. Olav alone know what you can have against the man I had promised you to. But ’tis another thing whether the man you have set your heart upon is such as I can wed you to. You’re young yet, and not over wise—and to cast his eyes upon a maid who is promised to another—’tis not the wont of an upright man—” “No man can rule himself in that matter,” broke in Kristin. “Aye, but he can. But so much you can understand, I trow: I will not do such offence to the Dyfrin folk as to betroth you to another the moment you have turned your back on Simon—and least of all to a man who might be more high in rank or richer—You must say who this man is,” he said after a little. Kristin pressed her hands together and breathed deeply. Then she said very slowly: