"They might let me do a little more, mightn't they? It's all Krak, you know. Mother wouldn't be half so bad without Krak."
"Oh, my dear, and is Krak so horrid?"
"Horrid," said I, with grave emphasis.
The Countess kissed me again.
"You'll grow up soon," she said. Somehow the assurance comforted me more from her lips than from Victoria's. "Will you be nice to me when you grow up?"
"I shall always be very, very fond of you," said I.
She laughed a funny little laugh, and then sighed.
"If God sends me a little son, I hope he'll be like you," she whispered, with her cheek against mine.
"He won't be a king," said I with a sigh of envy.
"You poor dear!" cooed she.