"Yes," she said.
Uncle Charlie opened the book. Heavens! it fell open at the
illustration of the two lovers drinking the fateful potion!
"Which is your favourite legend?" he asked.
Missy was too nervous to utter anything but the simple truth.
"The story of Sir Tristram and La Beale Isoud," she answered.
"Ah," said Uncle Charlie. He gazed at the picture she knew so well.
What was he thinking?
"Why is it your favourite?" he went on.
"I don't know--because it's so romantic, I guess. And so sad and
beautiful."
"Ah, yes," said Uncle Charlie. "You have a feeling for the classic,
I see. You call her 'Isoud'?"
That pleased Missy; and, despite her agitation over this malaprop
theme, she couldn't resist the impulse to air her lately acquired
learning.
"Yes, but she has different names in all the different languages,
you know. And she was the most beautiful lady or maiden that ever
lived."
"Is that so?" said Uncle Charlie. "More beautiful than your Aunt
Isabel?"
Missy hesitated, confused; the conversation was getting on dangerous
ground. "Why, I guess they're the same type, don't you? I've often
thought Aunt Isabel looks like La Beale Isoud.
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