Bellisant, the sister of King Pepin of France, sat in her round room, broidering. She had hair that was bright as the sun that stained her window, and eyes that were clear as pools of dew. She had a peaked chin and an air of wonderment. She held her needle with a grace that was fair to see. Bellisant was fairest of all fair maidens, and there was that about her that won men’s hearts, so that they loved her, not counting the cost of loving. But her heart was not less pure than her smile was tender; and when the peasant women chid their daughters, they would say, “Child, child, be careful —you will never be as good as the Princess Bellisant”.
Bellisant, the sister of King Pepin of France, sat in her round room, broidering. She had hair that was bright as the sun that stained her window, and eyes that were clear as pools of dew. She had a peaked chin and an air of wonderment. She held her needle with a grace that was fair to see. Bellisant was fairest of all fair maidens, and there was that about her that won men’s hearts, so that they loved her, not counting the cost of loving. But her heart was not less pure than her smile was tender; and when the peasant women chid their daughters, they would say, “Child, child, be careful —you will never be as good as the Princess Bellisant”.