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Yonge, Charlotte Mary, 1823-1901

"The Dove in the Eagle's Nest"

She
then dressed and bandaged the arm, and proceeded to skim--as no one
else in the castle would do--the basin of soup, with which she then
fed her patient as he leant back in the corner of the settle, at
first in the same somnolent, half-conscious state in which he had
been ever since the relief from the severe pain; but after a few
spoonfuls the light and life came back to his eye, and he broke out,
"Thanks, thanks, gracious lady! This is the Lady Baroness for me!
My young lord was the only wise man! Thanks, lady; now am I my own
man again. It had been long ere the old Freiherrinn had done so much
for me! I am your man, lady, for life or death!" And, before she
knew what he was about, the gigantic Schneiderlein had slid down on
his knees, seized her hand, and kissed it--the first act of homage to
her rank, but most startling and distressing to her. "Nay," she
faltered, "prithee do not; thou must rest. Only if--if thou canst
only tell me if he, my own dear lord, sent me any greeting, I would
wait to hear the rest till thou hast slept.


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