was our Lord's own bird; she would wish that breast with its holy stain pressed against her ring; but upon every day in the year, except Good Friday only, he, too, was fighting; so neither would she think of him.
From the beautiful wren's house, too, she turned away; he, the most impious and the most unfortunate of all the birds, who now for more than sixteen hundred years had paid for his transgression in the hunting of each St. Stephen's day—he, poor wretch, once guilty of that fearful laughter, should never nurse her ring.
Dreaming and searching, and pausing here and there, she came at last to a small open space that seemed like a safe green chamber in the descending wood. Below, seen through the trees' arch, glittered a small bright lake. All around, the songs of the birds still continued; for this was the time of year when they can scarcely sleep for joy. Beginning now to be tired, Eileen sat down to rest for a moment on the well-mossed ground; the greyhound, who followed all the way obediently behind her, came and lay at her feet.
Across the floor of moss stood a young beech with small leaves of a piercing green. Eileen soon noticed that one hanging branch swayed and rocked continually, and as she watched she saw a reddish breast and the flutter of a white feather in a wing.
She sat still till the branch ceased its swinging for a moment; then she stole towards it. Soon she found that flat upon the fork of the bending bough two chaffinches had built their nest. It was a round, perfect house of love, so clever, colored so softly, so feather-lined. Carefully Eileen laid the tip of one finger within; the nest was warm and as soft as down. Without more hesitation she took the ring from her bosom, kissed it once, slipped it in the nest; then, afraid of her own deed, she fled up through the woods, her heart beating, her breath panting on her lips. She had done a terrible thing—she had plucked her long-secret love out of her bosom to put it to the hazard of that rocking branch, of those beating wings, of those wild and tiny hearts. If these should fail her now, what could her own heart do but break?
All that night Eileen tossed upon her bed, dreaming of birds' wings and feathers and the eyes of Estercel; wondering, when she woke, how her ring was faring away down in the dark among the wild creatures of the wood; grieving for fear the chaffinches should quarrel with the ring and desert the new-built nest.
Although she was now a grown maiden, she still took her morning meal with her nurse in the upper room; while her grave father sat with his friends round the table in the hall, she was off and away to her parlor of pure green hidden in the wood. When she was come to the tree and the nest, there, lo and behold! a small egg lay right within the circle of the ring. Eileen held her breath for pleasure, so unexpected it looked, so pure in its pale color, so delightful in its shape; it seemed to her as great a wonder as any star.
Thereafter Eileen came each day to the wood. The chaffinches were wild and shy, but as she stepped softly, and seldom came quite near, they soon became used to seeing the silent creature seated over against them in her plumage of green or crimson, with her gray companion sleeping at her feet.
As there was little to do as she sat, Eileen kept her prayers to say in her new chamber in the wood; she told her rosary over as she sat among the leaves, and each day she added a prayer for Estercel.
Each day the roof of leaves grew deeper; the beeches flourished to a more amazing emerald, till the wood was lit by a quivering green light. When the sun shone and a breeze blew, Eileen watched the moving golden circles of the light that fell through the leaves and spotted all the ground.
On some days the rain fell and dripped, but Eileen minded it little as the birds, who play in the summer rains and sing the louder, for they know them meant for joy.
In the top branches of the beech-tree the cock chaffinch showed his red breast and sang his quick song; his silent mate sat below, obediently accomplishing the wonder of the nest.
Eileen sat always where she could see the smooth brown creature spread upon the nest, the bright eye that gazed so
