"Do you remember," said Swanhilda at last, using her native tongue, "the first day I came here, how there came a terrible sound that made me miserably frightened? I have never heard it since then. What was it?" "Only a rusty axle; at least, so I suppose. That careless David had forgotten to oil it properly. But I gave him such a scolding that there has been no more trouble." "David is not careless--he works very hard, and I love him," retorted Swanhilda, tossing back her yellow hair. "Besides, such a noise could not be made by an axle." "You may like David, but you mustn't love him; you are a little princess, and he is only the housekeeper's son." "What is the difference between loving and liking?" inquired Swanhilda, folding her hands in her lap, and turning round on her companion. He took her hand and answered, "I shall teach you that when you are older." "I am not so young as you think. I am old enough to be taught now." "No, no, no!" said Gloam, shaking his head and laughing; "you are nothing but a child yet. There is plenty of time, little water-nymph." "If you will not teach me, I'll find someone else who will teach me. I will ask David; he has taught me some things already." "He? What have you learnt from him?" cried Gloam. Swanhilda hesitated. "I should not have said that--but it's nothing, only that I am learning to speak English. He didn't want you to know until I was quite perfect, so as to make it a surprise to you." "He had no right to do it. Why should you learn to speak with anyone but me?" exclaimed Gloam passionately. "Do you think I belong to you?" demanded Swanhilda, lifting her head in half-earnest, half-laughing defiance. "No; I am my own, and there are other places besides this in the world, and other people. I will go back to my own country." "Oh, Swanhilda," said Gloam, his voice husky with dismay, "you will never leave us? I cannot live without you." "I will, if you are unkind to me.... Well, then, you must not be angry because David taught me English; and you must let him teach me the difference between liking and loving; I'm sure he knows what it is!" "Do not ask him--do not ask him! That is my right; no one can take it from me! I saved you, Swanhilda; I brought you back to life, and that new life belongs to me!" The hand that held hers had turned cold, and he was pale and trembling. "I have kept you for myself; I have given up my own life--the life that I used to live--for you. But I cannot return to it, if you leave me." "I did not ask you to give it up," she returned, waywardly. Then she relented, and said, "Well, you may teach me about loving, if you want to. Only, afterwards, you must let me love anyone I please!" Gloam looked upon her for several moments, his black eyes lingering over every line of her face and figure. "You belong to me," he repeated at last. "If you left me for another, I should wish that your pearl-shells had drawn you down----"