"It is all that vow of mine," I said. "I have just met Elfrida, and
she is angry with me for naming her at all."

"Unfair," said the abbot. "You could not have helped it, seeing
that you were bidden to do so."

I had forgotten that, and it was possible that Elfrida did not know
it. So I said that I did not look for quite the scorn I had met
with, at all events. Whereon the abbot stayed in his walk and asked
more, trying to look grave as he heard me, and soon he had all the
story.

"So you carried the basket like any thrall, and had my Yuletide
gift to her in payment," he said, with his eyes twinkling; "I will
ask if she has lost it presently, and you will be avenged."

He laughed again, and then said more gravely, but with a smile not
far off:

"Go to, Oswald, don't ask me to make the ways of a damsel plain to
you, for that was more than Solomon himself could compass. But I
think I know what is wrong. Her father has been making a jest to
her of the way you worded your vow, laughing mightily after his
manner, and she is revenging herself on you. Never mind. Wait till
you come back from this journey, and then see how things are with
her. Now let us talk of your errand, for it is important."

Then we went slowly together, and he told me how that he had
foreseen for a long time that Owen would return to his uncle and