love, Elfhild. And he reddened as he spake this, as though he were a youth before his time. But Elfhild said: In all ways thou art kind to me, and thee shall I ever love. But now tell me, Osberne, what wouldst thou have me do to-day to make game and play for thee? Said he: Call up the sheep again to thee with the sweet little pipe, for therein is much game. She nodded her head merrily, and drew forth her pipe and played, and the sheep came bundling up as the day before; and she danced and played a long while, and Osberne clapped his hands and laughed and egged her on, and was full fain of her dancing; and forsooth it was a wonder and delight to see her. At last she was wearied out, and cast herself on the grass at the very edge of the cliff, and said that she could no more. And Osberne thanked her kindly.
So when she had gotten her breath again, she asked him what next she should do for his disport. And he bade tell him of how she lived with those two women, her aunts, and what she did from day to day. So she sat down as on the other day, with her legs hanging down over the grisly flood, and told him full sweetly of her joys and her work and her troubles. And some of the tale was piteous enough, for the two kinswomen, who were by no means old, for the eldest was only of thirty summers, were somewhat hard with the child and right careless of her, as shall be shown afterwards. But after a little she broke off and said: But Osberne, dear, these be no fair tales for thee, though thou art kind to hearken
