if the princess was as
beautiful as the maid he could pass judgment?

"Yes, you have forgotten. Do you not remember that you offered to be
my friend?" She read him through and through, his embarrassment, the
tell-tale color in his cheeks. She laughed, and there was nothing but
youth in the laughter. "Certainly you are afraid of me."

"I confess I am," he said. "I can not remember all I said to you."

Suddenly she, too, remembered something, and it caused the red of the
rose to ripple from her throat to her eyes. "Poor dog! Not that they
hated him, but because I love him!" Tears started to her eyes. "See,
Monsieur Carewe; princesses are human, they weep and they love. Poor
dog! My playmate and my friend. But for you they might have killed him.
Tell me how it happened." She knew, but she wanted to hear the story
from his own lips.

His narrative was rather disjointed, and he slipped in von Mitter as
many times as possible, thinking to do that individual a good turn.
Perhaps she noticed it, for at intervals she smiled. During the telling
he took out his handkerchief, wiped the dog's head with it, and wound it
tightly about the injured leg. The dog knew; he wagged his tail.

How handsome and brave, she thought, as she observed the face in
profile. Not a day had passed during the fortnight gone that she had not
conjured up some feature of that intelligent countenance; sometimes it
had been the eyes, sometimes the chin and mouth, sometimes the shapely
head. It was wrong; but this little sin was so sweet. She had never
expected to see him again. He had come and gone, and she had thought
that the beginning and the end. Ah, if only she were not a princess! If
only some hand would sweep aside those insurmountable barriers called
birth and policy! To be free, to be the mistress of one's heart, one's
dreams, one's desires!

"And you did it all alone," she said, softly; "all alone."

"O, I had the advantage; I was not expected. It was all over before they
knew what had happened."

"And you had the courage to take a poor dog's part? Did you know whose
dog it was?"

"Yes, your Highness, I recognized him."

A secret gladness stole into her heart, and to cover the flame which
again rose to her cheeks, she bent and smoothed the dog's head. This
gave Maurice an opportunity to look at her. What a beautiful being
she was! He was actually sitting beside her, breathing the same
air, listening to her voice. She exhaled a delicate