"Not a bit of it—they're for you."
"Why, then, since you are pleased to command, I bow—and many thanks." And, bowing deeply, he took her hand and kissed it.
The Princess hurried homeward, laughing at the face of young Endresen when his father appeared with the flowers.
While all this was going on, Karsten junior was sitting deep in thought as to whether he ought not to propose to the Princess himself. He had sounded his father on the subject, and the latter had made no positive objection to the match. True, it was not altogether comme il faut, but still, it might be passed over—though he certainly considered the old man intolerable.
Karsten junior was not much of a speaker, and determined, therefore, to write instead. But he found this, too, a ticklish business. He had never "operated in that market" before, and was altogether unacquainted with the article known as love. The opening phrase of the contemplated letter was a stumbling-block to begin with. Should he write "Miss," or "Miss Baby," or "Dear Miss Baby"—or even straight out, "Dear Baby"—but no, he must do the thing correctly in due form. The house of Karsten was an old-established firm, and he must make this evident.
He decided at last for "Miss" simply.
"Referring to our conversation of 7th inst., I hereby beg to inform you ..." etc.
He wrote on his sister's ivory paper, put the letter neatly in an envelope, and sent it off.
The Princess laughed when she got the letter. She read it aloud to herself, and exclaimed with conviction: "What a fool!"
Altogether it had been a day of amusing experiences for the Princess, but there was more to come. Yet another letter arrived, that filled her with unbounded astonishment. It ran as follows: