The princess sighed, and they gazed at each other with curious examining eyes. Certainly he looked a nice boy.
“I tell you what: come out into the wood. I know an awfully cool place. You’d find it very refreshing,” said the Terror in the tone of one who has of a sudden been happily inspired.
The princess looked back along the wall of pear tree irresolutely at the sleeping baroness. The sight of that richly crimson face made the garden feel hotter than ever.
“Do come. My sister’s here, and it will be very jolly in the wood—the three of us,” said the Terror in his most persuasive tone.
The princess hesitated, and again she looked back at the sleeping but unbeautiful baroness; then she said with a truly German frankness:
“Are you well-born?”
The Terror smiled a little haughtily in his turn and said slowly: “Well, from what Mrs. Blenkinsop said, the Dangerfields were barons in the Weald before they were any Hohenzollerns. And they did very well at Crécy and Agincourt, too,” he added pensively.
The princess seemed reassured; but she still hesitated.
“Suppose the baroness were to wake?” she said.
A light of understanding brightened the Terror’s face: “Oh, is that the baroness snoring? I thought it was a pig,” he said frankly. “She won’t wake for another hour. Nobody snoring like that could.”