Page:Harper's New Monthly Magazine - v109.djvu/98

84 Eileen one day of the next spring when the charm of the ring was accomplished and the desire of her nursling's heart given to her at last. Attentively she lent her ear to listen, as though she would discover the music of her own youth across the long years of the past and catch its echo in the voice of the maiden she had fostered.

Eileen's face was pale as it lay on her nurse's shoulder, and from her lips came many sighs as she told her story:

"And after that we went walking under the trees, Nurse Phaire; and, 'What bird is that singing so loud up there?' asked Estercel, and I saw at once what bird it was, and I was afraid the ring would tell him; so I could bear it no more, and I told it all to him, nurse, about the nest and everything, for I have been most unhappy to deceive him."

"There was no need to tell, my lamb," said the old woman, wise and fond. "The young are very foolish; there was no need to tell. And what did he say?"

"He said," answered Eileen, while her tears fell on her nurse's neck, fresh as the spring rain, and a small laugh came up from her heart,—"he said, 'A white witch should be punished'; and then he said—but—oh no, I can never tell any one what Estercel has said to me to-day."



