'Gunnie, I got this worm for Beddy!'

“Gunnie, I got this worm for Beddy!” Margaret said, proudly holding up her fat, pink prize.

“That’s a real squirmy worm!” Gunnilda admired. “But what does Beddy want with worms?”

“He eats them!”

“He does?” Gunnilda gasped.

“I have heard,” Alred said, “that Beddy has won a goodly number of treasures that way. All the better if he chews them.”

'All the better if he chews them.'

“If he – Beddy!” Gunnilda called down the hall.

Alred heard a door open and a young voice shout, “What, Ma?”

“Oh oh! Beddy, you get right back in there and put a shirt on! Her ladyship is here!”

“Oh!” The door slammed.

Alred laughed. “What did you plan to give Beddy if he ate your worm, Margaret?”

Margaret seemed to find the question absurd. “The worm,” she squeaked.

Margaret seemed to find the question absurd.

“No, that’s not how it works. If Beddy eats the worm, then you must give him something nice.”

“Oh.”

“You might give him a kiss,” he suggested. “That’s very nice.”

“Oh, no!” Gunnilda cried and stuck out her tongue. “Not right after he eats a worm!”

'Not right after he eats a worm!'

Alred laughed. “I hadn’t thought of that! You had better go put your worm outside and give him the kiss as a favor.”

“He might eat it later,” Margaret suggested as she wandered down the hall to his door, still clutching her worm.

'He might eat it later.'

“Speaking of kisses, my darling,” Alred said softly.

“No no!” Gunnilda interrupted with a giggle. “Not even if you eat a dozen worms!”

Especially not if I eat a dozen worms! But I wasn’t talking about myself. I was thinking about someone else who might have kissed you recently, and didn’t eat his worm.”

“What do you mean?” she asked hesitantly.

“Forgive me for speaking of it, but he has me worried. I mean Egelric.”

“He told you about that?” she murmured, gripping the back of the chair beside her.

'He told you about that?'

“He told me it was the reason why he ran away for a day and a night.”

She stared at him, speechless.

“What did he have to say for himself?” Alred asked.

“He said he wanted to prove to me he was bad.” Her knuckles were white. “He told me… he told me he hoped I believed it, because I would not like the next lesson.”

“I mean, what did he say when he came to apologize?”

“He never did come to apologize.”

“What?” Alred gasped.

'I said he never did.'

“I said he never did.”

“When did you see him last?”

“When he… did it.”

'Alred turned away in consternation.'

Alred turned away in consternation. “It seems he does intend to convince you he is bad! It’s beginning to have an effect on me!”

“Did he tell you he meant to apologize?”

'Did he tell you he meant to apologize?'

“I don’t remember exactly. I certainly thought he meant to.”

“I don’t understand him,” she quavered.

“Neither do I. Neither do I. All I know is that he once treasured your good opinion of him as a sign that he was not utterly contemptible. Mine too, perhaps. Now he seems intent on destroying them.”

'Now he seems intent on destroying them.'

“We shouldn’t let him.”

“I suppose not, although, I tell you, he is beginning to ruin mine. I don’t care what he does to me, but I don’t like to see him hurting you.” He took a step closer to her and laid a hand on her arm. “Please don’t try to talk to him just now. If he comes to apologize, let him, but don’t try to talk to him about… what he’s doing. I don’t like this nonsense about the ‘next lesson.’ Tell Alwy if you are frightened. I don’t want to see him hurt you.”

'I don't want to see him hurt you.'