He wore it,
and seemed glad!"
She passed her hand across her forehead with a troubled air, and watched
Ulrika, who quietly closed the window against the darkness and
desolation of the night. "Are you a friend?" she asked presently in
anxious tones. "I know so many that say they are my friends--but I am
afraid of them all--and I have left them. Do you know why?" and she laid
her hand on Ulrika's rough arm. "Because they tell me my Philip does not
love me any more. They are very cruel to say so, and I think it cannot
be true. I want to tell my father what they say--because he will
know--and if it is true, then I wish to die,--I could not live! Will you
take me to my father?"
The plaintive, pleading gentleness of her voice and look brought more
tears into Ulrika's eyes than had ever been forced there by her
devotional exercises,--and the miserable Valdemar, already
broken-hearted by his master's death, turned away and sobbingly cursed
his gods for this new and undeserved affliction.
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