“I suppose it’s like when people fall in love,” said Elfrida, through hers. “You see the door and you know at once that it is the only princess in the world, for you—I mean door, of course,” she added.
And then, when breakfast was over, they stood up and looked at each other.
“Now,” they said together.
“We’ll look at every single door. Perhaps there’ll be magic writing on the door come out in the night, like mushrooms,” said the girl.
“More likely that mole was kidding us,” said the boy.
“Oh, no,” said the girl; “and we must look at them on both sides—every one. Oh, I do wonder what’s inside the door, don’t you?”
“Bluebeard’s wives, I shouldn’t wonder,” said the boy, “with their heads——”
“If you don’t stop,” said the girl, putting her fingers in her ears, “I won’t look for the door at all. No, I don’t mean to be aggravating; but please don’t. You know I hate it.”
“Come on,” said Edred, “and don’t be a duffer, old chap.”
The proudest moments of Elfrida’s life were when her brother called her “old chap.”