“How old is she?” asked the Prince.
“But just a year younger than thou.”
“Is she nice?”
The King laughed. “How can I tell thee? I never saw her.”
“Will she play with us?”
“I should think she will. She is just between thee and Beatrice.”
“Beatrice is only a baby!” remarked the Prince disdainfully. Six years old is naturally scornful of four.
“Not more of a baby than thou,” said his uncle Lancaster, playfully.
“But she’s a girl, and I’m a man!” cried the insulted little Prince.
King Edward, excessively amused, set his boy down on the floor. “There, run to thy mother,” said he. “Thou wilt be a man one of these days, I dare say; but not just yet, Master Ned.”