'I wonder if Comfitt would give me some cake if I ran down and asked her!' said Mabel next.
The governess thought Mabel had much better wait patiently till dinner-time without spoiling her appetite.
'Oh, very well,' said Mabel; 'what a bore it is to be hungry too soon, isn't it?'
Then she took the faded prince up and looked at him mournfully. 'What a shame of Baby!' she said; 'I wanted to keep him always to look at—but I don't see how I can very well now, do you, Miss Pringle? Do they make these things only for ornament, should you think?'
'I think it is time you finished that exercise,' was all the governess replied.
'Oh, I've almost done it,' said Mabel, 'and I want just to ask this question (it comes under "general information," you know)—aren't vegetable colours "dilly-whatever-it-is" colours I mean—harmless? And Dr. Harley said vegetables were so very good for me. I wonder if I might just taste him.'
Here the prince's dream ended: he saw it all at last—how she had petted and praised him only while he was pleasant to look at; and now that was over—he was nothing more to her than something to eat.
Presently he was lifted gently between her slim finger and thumb to her lips, and touched caressingly by something red and moist and warm behind them. It was not unpleasant exactly, so far, but he knew that worse was coming, and longed for her to make haste and get it over.
'Vanilla!' reported Mabel, 'that must be all right, Miss Pringle. Cook flavours corn-flour with it!'
Miss Pringle shrugged her sharp shoulders: 'You must use your own judgment, my dear,' was all she said.