The princess met her father just inside the
Postern, lovely and fresh as a dew-dipped rose."
"She met her father just inside the Postern?" I asked, slowly dropping
my words in astonishment. "She was in the castle yard when her father
entered,--and at the Postern?"
"Yes, she took his hand and sprang to a seat behind him," answered
Hymbercourt.
"She met him inside the Postern, say you?" I repeated musingly.
"What is there amazing about so small an act?" asked Hymbercourt. "Is it
not natural that she should greet her father whom she has not seen for
a year?"
"Indeed, yes," I replied stumblingly, "but the weather is very hot,
and--and I was thinking how much I should have enjoyed witnessing the
meeting. She doubtless was dressed in gala attire for so rare an
occasion?" I asked, wishing to talk upon the subject that touched me so
nearly. Yolanda was in short skirts, stained and travel-worn, when
she left us.
"Indeed she was," answered Hymbercourt. "I can easily describe her
dress. She loves woman's finery, and I must confess that I too love it.
She wore a hawking costume; a cap of crimson--I think it was
velvet--with little knots on it and gems scattered here and there. A
heron's plume clasped with a diamond brooch adorned the cap. Her hair
hung over her shoulders. It is very dark and falls in a great bush of
fluffy curls. When her headgear is off, her hair looks like a black
corona. She is wonderfully beautiful, wonderfully beautiful.
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