One day when the first flush of early womanhood came upon the maiden, she said to her tutoress as they sat together and conversed—­

“Are all men like those our guards who defend us against savage beasts and the merciless Fomorians, dear Levarcam?”

“Those our guards are true and brave men,” said Levarcam.

“Surely they are,” said the girl, “and we lack no courtesy and due attention at their hands, but dear foster-mother, my question is not answered.  Maybe it is not to be answered and that I am curious overmuch.  Are all men grim, grave, and austere, wearing rugged countenances scored with ancient wounds, and bearing each man upon his shoulders the weight of some fearful responsibility?  Are all men like that, dear Levarcam?”

“Nay, indeed,” said the other, “there arc youths too, gracious, and gay, and beautiful, as well as grave men such as these.”

They sat together in their sunny grianan, [Footnote:  A derivative from Grian, the sun.  The grianan was an upper chamber, more elegantly furnished than the hall, usually with large windows and therefore well lit and reserved for the use of women.] embroidering while they conversed.  It was early morning and the air was full of the noises and odours of sweet spring-time.

“I know that now,” said the maiden, “which I only guessed before, for waking or sleeping I have dreamed of a youth who was as unlike these men as the rose-tree with its roses is unlike the rugged oak-tree or the wrinkled pine that has wrestled with a thousand storms.  I would wish to have him for a playfellow and pleasant acquaintance.  Of maidens, too, such as myself I have dreamed, yet they do not appear to me to be so alluring or so amiable as that youth.”

“Describe him more particularly,” said Levarcam.  “Tell me his tokens one by one that I may know.”

“He is tall and strong but very graceful in all his motions; and of speech and behaviour both gay and gracious.  He is white and ruddy, whiter than snow and ruddier than the rose or the fox-glove, where the heroic blood burns bright in his comely cheeks.  His eyes are blue-black under fine and even brows and his hair is a wonder, so dense is it, so lustrous and so curling, blacker than the crow’s wing, more shining than the bright armour of the chaffer.  His body is broad above and narrow below, strong to withstand and agile to pursue.  His limbs long and beautifully proportioned; his hands and feet likewise, and his step elastic Smiles seldom leave his eyes and lips, and his mouth is a fountain of sweet speech.  O that I were acquainted with him and he with me?  I think we should be happy in each other’s company.  I think I could love him as well as I do thee, dear foster-mother.”

As she spoke, Deirdre blushed, and first she stooped down over her work and then put before her face and eyes her two beautiful hands, rose-white, with long delicate nails pink-flushed and transparent; and tears, clearer than dewdrops, gushed between her ringers and fell in bright showers upon the embroidery.  Then she arose and flung her soft white arms around Levarcam and wept on her bosom.