"
"I did so," she replied; "nor did I know I was doing any harm."
"Answer no such inquiries in future," said Tristram angrily.
"But, grandfather, I could not refuse to answer the cardinal," she
replied, in a deprecating voice.
"No more excuses, but attend to my injunctions," said Tristram. "Have
you seen Morgan Fenwolf to-day?"
"No; and I care not if I never see him again," she replied pettishly.
"You dislike him strangely, Mab," rejoined her grandfather; "he is the
best keeper in the forest, and makes no secret of his love for you."
"The very reason why I dislike him," she returned.
"By the same rule, if what the cardinal stated be true--though, trust me,
he was but jesting--you ought to dislike the king. But get my supper. I
have need of it, for I have fasted long."
Mabel hastened to obey, and set a mess of hot pottage and other
viands before him. Little more conversation passed between them, for
the old man was weary, and sought his couch early.
That night Mabel did nothing but dream of the king--of stately
chambers, rich apparel, and countless attendants. She awoke, and
finding herself in a lowly cottage, and without a single attendant, was,
like other dreamers of imaginary splendour, greatly discontented.
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