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Argeleafa gazed about her in despair and struggled with the temptation to sit down and burst into tears again. She looked towards Ędegard, but his face was dark and stormy. She looked for Liornung, but she could not see him through the tears that were rising fast in her eyes. She would not weep, whatever the inclination. The last time ill things had come of it. She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers at them, and took many deep breaths, until she felt that, while still shaking and sorrowful, she would not weep.
Oh, but the world was an odd place! She had been so happy, engaged to Ędegard, and now everything was crumbling to pieces about her. Oh, would it happen that Ędegard would not love her anymore, and would not want her to be his wife? It was a bitter thing to reflect upon. Things such as it were never supposed to happen, save in the songs Liornung sang each night by the fire. Now he could compose a new song, and name it, 'The Sorrowful Tale of Ędegard and Argeleafa.' It was cruel, too cruel.
She sat down upon the ground and immersed herself in her feelings of grief and bitterness. Ędegard did not look at her, but continued to groom his steed, his eyes smouldering. Well then! Neither would she look at him, nor would she speak to him. It was a mad idea that sprang to her head, and it was unlike her, the quiet gentle little girl, but it came to her nevertheless, and she resolved to ignore Ędegard for as long as it was possible.
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