The Terror shook hands with her, and said: “How do you do? I’ve been wanting to know you: the princess—I mean Lady Rowington—likes you ever so much.”
Miss Lambart was appeased.
“Perhaps you could give us some tea? We want it badly,” said Sir Maurice.
“Yes, I can. We only drink milk and cocoa, of course. But we have some tea, for Mum walked up to have tea with us yesterday,” said the Terror.
“I take it that she saw nothing of the princess,” said Sir Maurice.
“Oh, no; she didn’t see Lady Rowington. You must remember that she’s Lady Rowington here, and not the princess at all,” said the Terror.
“Oh? I see now how it was that when you were asked at home, you knew nothing about the princess,” said Sir Maurice quickly.
“Yes; that was how,” said the Terror blandly.
They had not long to wait for their tea, for the Twins had had their kettle on the fire for some time. Sir Maurice and Miss Lambart enjoyed the picnic greatly. On his suggestion an armistice was proclaimed. Miss Lambart agreed to make no further attempt to capture the princess; and she came out of hiding and took her tea with them.
Miss Lambart was, indeed, pleased with, at any rate, the physical change in the princess, induced by her short stay at the knoll: she was a browner, brighter, stronger child. Plainly, too, she was a more determined child; and while, for her own part, Miss Lambart approved of that change also, she was quite sure that it would not be approved by the princess’ kinsfolk and train. But she was somewhat distressed that the legs of the princess should be marred by so many and such deep scratches. She had none of the experienced Twins’ quickness to see and dodge thorns. She took Miss Lambart’s sympathy lightly enough; indeed she seemed to regard those scratches as scars gained in honorable warfare.