"The eye is weak, your highness, and I cover it in the daytime to protect it from the sunlight," he said, coolly.
"That's all very nice, but it looks to be quite as good as the other. And what is more, sir, you are not putting the patch over the same eye that wore it when I first saw you. It was the left eye at sunset. Does the trouble transfer after dark?"
He broke into an honest laugh and hastily moved the black patch across his nose to the left eye.
"I was turned around in the darkness, that's all," he said, serenely. "It belongs over the left eye, and I am deeply grateful to you for discovering the error."
"I don't see any especial reason why you should wear it after dark, do you? There is no sunlight, I'm sure."
"I am dazzled, nevertheless," he retorted.
"Fiddlesticks!" she said. "This is a cave, not a drawing-room."
"In other words, I am a lout and not a courtier," he smiled. "Well, a lout may look at a princess. We have no court etiquette in the hills, I am sorry to say."
"That was very unkind, even though you said it most becomingly," she protested. "You have called this pail a throne. Let us also imagine that you are a courtier."
"You punish me most gently, your highness. I shall not forget my manners again, believe me." He seemed thoroughly subdued.