Mouse goes into hiding
“Forget something?” Oswald asked, seeing his sister return.
“I’m hiding,” Mouse giggled. “I didn’t want to go out in the court and mount the horse.”
“Why not? You want to walk home?”
“No, I don’t want Sir Egelric’s steward to see me with the horse.”
Oswald laughed, mystified. “Why not?”
“Because I think he thinks I’m a maid.”
“A what?” he cried.
Mouse flapped out her skirts and plunked onto the couch.
“What a rude man he is! I met him coming up the stairs as I was going down, and he got all in a huff because I wouldn’t get out of his way.”
“Well, if he thought you were a maid, I’m sure… even if it is rather rude. But didn’t you tell him who you were?”
“No! It was too funny to watch him get mad at me. I was a rather impudent maid.”
He laughed. “Mouse!”
“I know, it was bad of me, wasn’t it?” she giggled.
“It was like you.”
“How’s this baby boy?” she asked abruptly, bending to pat Brid on the head.
“He’s hard at work building up and tearing down.”
“I just peeked in at Gala. She’s almost sleeping, poor girl. But Mama will be in to take this boy off your hands soon.”
“I don’t mind watching him. We were having a little talk, man-to-man.”
Indeed Brid had been having a little talk all the while, Brid-to-Brid, for no one else could have understood his babbling, with the possible exception of his twin sister.
“What a good papa you’ll make,” Mouse teased. “When will it be your turn, young Oswald? And how’s Anna these days? We haven’t seen her in weeks.”
“Oh,” he frowned. “Anna is absent these days.”
“Where did she go?”
“Away from me.”
“Oh, Os,” Mouse sighed.
“It doesn’t matter. If she doesn’t like me now, I suppose she never did.”
“Now, perhaps she does. She’s still young, and so are you. And she always comes back to you. She knows she can’t find better than you.”
“She thinks she has.”
“Oh, is that so?”
“Don’t tell Wynn,” he sighed, “but I believe she has been seeing the Duke’s son.”
“What?” Mouse gasped. “That quiet boy?”
“That quiet boy.”
“But what does she see in him?”
“He’s a Duke’s son.”
“But… but he’s betrothed to the Princess!”
“I know. But it doesn’t matter, Mouse. She knows he won’t marry her, so if she still wants to see him, then…”
“Then she’s stupid!”
“Then she’s not the girl for me.”
“Well, Os, I don’t know what to say. I wondered why you’ve been so quiet lately. I suppose it’s a good thing you see she’s not the girl for you, if she isn’t. Some boys don’t admit it, and they’re twice as unhappy in the end.”
He shrugged.
“You’ll find the girl for you someday,” she assured him. “You’re still young.”
“What about you, Mouse?” he asked pointedly. “You’re nearly eighteen. You’re nearly old.”
“But I can’t get married until you get married, silly boy.”
“I know, but you still haven’t found the ‘boy for you’, which makes me despair of ever finding the ‘girl for me’.”
“But I’m not even looking. I don’t want to fall in love and then have to wait three years for you to grow up.”
Oswald shook his head. “As if one can decide when one wants to fall in love.”
“And where, and how, and with whom!” she laughed.
“I hope you can, Mouse. It will save you a lot of trouble. And pain.”
“Oh, Os,” she said with a sympathetic sigh.
“Never mind.” Oswald turned aside and busied himself helping Brid to build up and tear down with his blocks.
Mouse watched them for a while, tapping the toe of her red boot in impatience.
“Do you suppose that nasty steward has gone away yet?” she asked.
Oswald laughed. “I don’t know. Don’t tell me you’re meaning to wait here until he does.”
“I know, I know, I have work to do at home. I’ve gotten myself into another scrape, with this maid nonsense.”
“Just go. I doubt he’ll see you.”
“Probably not…”
“Anyway, what do you care if he does?”
“But he’ll be furious at me for tricking him.”
“I think you should be furious at him for believing you’re a maid. I’m certain my sister is a little too fine to be a maid. Anyway, it’s not likely you’ll see him again, as you say when you make fun of strangers at the market.”
“I do say that,” she giggled sheepishly. “But do you think I won’t see him again?”
“You’re eighteen years old and you’ve seen him once in your life. He’ll probably have forgotten you by the time you’re thirty-six and he sees you next.”
“But perhaps I never saw him before because he’s new.”
“I don’t know, Mouse,” Os sighed wearily. “He lives over an hour away, so it’s not likely you’ll be meeting him often. If I were he, I would be embarrassed if I learned I had mistaken you for a maid. But if he is furious then it won’t matter anyway, because he won’t be worth knowing. ‘Not the man for you,’ as you would say.”
“That’s true,” she said. “And anyway—I am not looking for a man!”
