"Because it is quite evident that you are one. There is a—bossiness about you that proclaims the fact aloud." Bernard smiled upon her—the smile of open goodfellowship. "Beggars always know princesses when they see them," he said.
She scrutinized him severely for a moment or two, then suddenly melted into a gleaming, responsive smile that illuminated her little pale face like a shaft of sunlight. She came close to him, and very graciously proffered Scooter for a caress. "You needn't be afraid of him. He doesn't bite," she said.
"I suppose he is a bewitched prince, is he?" asked Bernard, as he stroked the furry little animal.
The great blue eyes were still fixed upon him. "No," said Tessa, after a thoughtful moment or two. "He's only a mongoose. But I think you are a bewitched prince. You're so big. And they always pretend to be beggars too," she added.
"And the princesses always fall in love with them before they find out," said Bernard, looking quizzical.
Tessa frowned a little. "I don't think falling in love is a very nice game," she said. "I've seen a lot of it."
"Have you indeed?" Bernard's eyes screwed up for a moment, but were hastily restored to an expression of becoming gravity. "I don't know much about it myself," he said. "You see, I'm an old bachelor."
"Haven't you—ever—been in love?" asked Tessa incredulously.
He held out his hand to her. "Yes, I'm in love at the present moment—quite the worst sort too—love at first sight."
"You are rather old, aren't you?" said Tessa dispassionately, but she laid her hand in his notwithstanding.