"Oh, but I want you to be comfortable, dear," she said. "I want you to feel at home—that is the English phrase, isn't it?"
"Yes, but 'at home' all my rooms would have gone into the smallest you have given me," Margaret had said, smiling.
"Really! Well, at any rate you need large rooms, for are you not an artist, and do you not want a studio? Ferdinand has given orders that the large room with the big window is to be fitted up as a painting-room for you; and he promised to choose some pictures and some curios, and all those kind of things you artists love, to furnish it. He has gone to Rome, you know."
Margaret looked rather grave. A prince is a prince to us English people, and it rather alarmed her that she should be the cause of so much trouble to his highness.
The princess laughed at her serious countenance.
"Do not look so grave," she said. "It was Ferdy's own idea. He chose the rooms, and said how nice the big one would do for a studio. You can't think how thoughtful he is—when he chooses to think at all."
"His highness is very good," said Margaret, "but I am ashamed to give him so much trouble."
The princess laughed again.
"Ferdy loves trouble. His great grief is that he has nothing to do, for you see there is nothing to employ him here. The steward looks after the land, and the major domo does all the business in the villa, and there is nothing for poor Ferdy to do when he is away from the court. I want you to like my brother, Miss Leslie," she added.