abstaining from the intrigues around him, was delivered up to the
thoughts, restless and feverish, which haunt the repose of all active
minds, was not unwilling to escape awhile from himself. He went to
Aldyth. The royal widow had laid by the signs of mourning; she was
dressed with the usual stately and loose-robed splendour of Saxon
matrons, and all the proud beauty of her youth was restored to her
cheek. At her feet was that daughter who afterwards married the
Fleance so familiar to us in Shakespeare, and became the ancestral
mother of those Scottish kings who had passed, in pale shadows, across
the eyes of Macbeth [216]; by the side of that child, Harold to his
surprise saw the ever ominous face of Haco.

But proud as was Aldyth, all pride seemed humbled into woman's sweeter
emotions at the sight of the Earl, and she was at first unable to
command words to answer his greeting.

Gradually, however, she warmed into cordial confidence. She touched
lightly on her past sorrows; she permitted it to be seen that her lot
with the fierce Gryffyth had been one not more of public calamity than
of domestic grief, and that in the natural awe and horror which the
murder of her lord had caused, she felt rather for the ill-starred
king than the beloved spouse. She then passed to the differences
still existing between her house and Harold's, and spoke well and
wisely of the desire of the young Earls to conciliate his grace and
favour.

While thus speaking, Morcar and Edwin, as if accidentally, entered,
and their salutations of Harold were such as became their relative
positions; reserved, not distant--respectful, not servile. With the
delicacy of high natures, they avoided touching on the cause before