“Don’t be angry with him,” she said gently; “it is very brave of him to speak like this, and terrible for him, poor boy, to know the truth.”
“No, no, your Highness, it is not true!” cried Frank wildly; and he caught and kissed, and then clung to the Princess’s hand.
“My poor boy!” she said tenderly.
“No, no; don’t you believe it, madam!” he cried. “It is not—it can’t be true. Some enemy has told you this.”
“No,” said the Princess gently, “no enemy, my boy. It was told me by one who knows too well. I had it from your mother’s lips.”
Frank gazed at her blankly, and his eyes then grew full of reproach, as they seemed to say, “How can you, who are her friend, believe such a thing?”
“There boy,” said the Prince, interposing; “come here.”
Frank turned to him, and his eyes flashed.
“Don’t look like that,” continued the Prince. “I am not angry with you now. I believe you, and I like your brave, honest way in defending your father. But you see how all this is true.”
“No!” cried the boy firmly. “Your Royal Highness and the Princess have been deceived. Some one has brought a lying report to my poor mother, who ought to have been the last to believe it. I cannot and will not think it is true.”