white towers of the Black Earl glistening in the sun, to dream and to tremble.
And as she gazed a honey-bee hummed in her ear: ‘Go not to the great city.’
And as she smiled she raised her hand between her eyes and the far-off towers so she could not see.
‘Nay,’ quoth she, ‘it is a small place; my hand can cover it.’
‘Ring a chime,’ saith she to the heather shaking its bells in the wind, ‘ring for me a wedding chime, for I am to be the bride of the Earl Roderick.’
She kissed the wild bramble lifting its petals in the sun.
‘I shall return to thee soon.’
And so, springing to her feet, she ran laughing down the hill, and as she ran the spirit of the hills was with her, blowing in her eyes and lifting her soft hair.
‘I shall return to thee soon,’ she said again, and so entered her father's house and prepared herself for her betrothed.
What of her dream was there now? She
