“That it was impossible; that we were not to blame, and that I was more her friend than ever.”
“Oh, I do love the Princess!” cried the boy enthusiastically. “There, you see, she does not at heart believe the miserable tale. No, you shall not go away, mother; it would be like owning that it was true. Be brave and good and full of faith. Father said I was to defend you while he was away, and I’m going to—against yourself while you are weak and ill. Oh, what lots of things you’ve taught me about trying to be brave and upright and true; now I’m going to try and show you that I will. We cannot leave the court; it would be dishonouring father. Good-bye till to-morrow. Oh, mother, how old all this makes me feel.”
“My own boy!”
“Yes, but I don’t feel a bit like a boy now, mother. It’s just as if I had been here for years. There, once more kiss me—good-bye!”
“My darling! But what are you going to do?”
“Something to show you that father has been slandered. Good-bye! To-morrow I shall make you laugh for joy.”
And tearing himself away from his mother’s clinging arms, the boy hurried out, down the stairs, and out into the courtyard, full of the plan now in his mind.