'Orange-juice!' Ethelinda cried contemptuously; 'it's not in the least like orange-juice; it's——' (she didn't know what it was made of herself, but there was no use in telling him so) 'I couldn't make you understand without too much trouble, you really are so very ignorant, but there's a good deal of it in romances. And dukes, and guardsmen, and being very beautiful and deliciously miserable, till just before the end—that's a romance! My milliner used to have it read out to her while she was dressing me for that ball I told you about.'
'Do you mind telling me what a heroine is?' he asked. 'I know I'm very stupid.'
'A heroine? oh, any doll can be a heroine. I felt all the time the heroines were all just like me. They were either very good or very wicked, and I'm sure I could be the one or the other if I got the chance. I think it would be more amusing, perhaps, to be a little wicked, but then it's not quite so easy, you know.'
'I should think it would be more uncomfortable,' he suggested.
'Ah, but then you see you haven't any sentiment about you,' she said disparagingly.
'No,' he admitted, 'I'm afraid I haven't. I suppose they couldn't put it in for elevenpence three farthings.'
'I should think not,' Ethelinda observed, 'it's very expensive.' And then, after a short silence, she said more confidentially, 'you were talking of Master Archie just now. I rather like that boy, do you know. I believe I could make something of him if he would only let me.'
'He's a mischievous boy,' said the jester, 'and ill-natured too.'
'Yes, isn't he?' she agreed admiringly; 'I like him for that. I fancy a duke or a guardsman must be something like him; they all had just his wicked black eyes and long restless fingers. It wouldn't be quite so dull if he would notice me a little; but he never will!'
'He's going back to school next week,' the jester said rather cheerfully.