How better? It is his only
chance for comfort, for honor, for life itself. He would have grown a--I
was growing bad and foul myself in that ugly wilderness. Now he will be a
knight once more among knights, and win himself fresh honor in fresh
fields. Let him marry her. Why not? He can get a dispensation from the
Pope, and then there will be no sin in it, you know. If the Holy Father
cannot make wrong right, who can? Yes. It is very well as it is. And I am
very well where I am. Women! bring me scissors, and one of your nun's
dresses. I am come to be a nun like you."
Godiva would have stopped her. But Torfrida rose upon her knees, and
calmly made a solemn vow, which, though canonically void without her
husband's consent, would, she well knew, never be disputed by any there;
and as for him,--"He has lost me; and forever. Torfrida never gives
herself away twice."
"There's carnal pride in those words, my poor child," said Godiva.
"Cruel!" said she, proudly. "When I am sacrificing myself utterly for
him."
"And thy poor girl?"
"He will let her come hither," said Torfrida with forced calm. "He will
see that it is not fit that she should grow up with--yes, he will send her
to me--to us. And I shall live for her--and for you. If you will let me be
your bower woman, dress you, serve you, read to you.
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