face have combined to bewitch the people. Certainly, if she had been of
low birth, her charms would never have been heard of outside her native
village."

"I' faith, Athelwold, you are not warm in your praise of this queen of
beauty," said Edgar, with some disappointment. "Rumor, then, has lied,
and she is but an every-day woman, after all?"

"Beauty has a double origin," answered Athelwold; "it lies partly in the
face seen, partly in the eyes seeing. Some might go mad over this
Elfrida, but to my taste London affords fairer faces. I speak but for
myself. Should you see her you might think differently."

Athelwold had managed his story shrewdly; the king's ardor grew cold.

"If the matter stands thus, he that wants her may have her," said Edgar.
"The diamond that fails to show its lustre in all candles is not the gem
for my wearing. Confess, Athelwold, you are trying to overpaint this
woman; you found only an ordinary face."

"I saw nothing in it extraordinary," answered the faithless envoy. "Some
might, perhaps. I can only speak for myself. As I take it, Elfrida's
noble birth and her father's wealth, which will come to her as sole
heiress, have had their share in painting this rose. The woman may have
beauty enough for a countess; hardly enough for a queen."

"Then you should have wooed and won her yourself," said Edgar, laughing.
"Such a faintly-praised charmer is not for me. I leave her for a
lower-born lover."