While they had been talking thus, they had both been slowly advancing along the path.
“Well, Lucy,” said Royal, “it does not do any harm for me to walk along with you like this. I will keep a little behind you, and so let you find the way yourself; and then you shall do the errand to Mary Jay, all alone. I won’t speak a word.”
By these and similar persuasions Lucy was induced, at last, to allow Royal to accompany her; and they walked along together.
“Now,” said Royal, after they had been walking along together a little while,—“Now, Lucy, I’ll tell you about the different kinds of stories.”
“Well,” said Lucy, “I should like to hear very much.”
“First,” said Royal, “there are true stories.”
“Yes,” said Lucy, “and I like true stories very much.”
“Next, there are probable stories. The things did not really happen, but there is nothing in them but what might have happened well enough.”
“Now tell me a probable story,” said Lucy.
“Well,” said Royal. “Once there was a boy who had a cat,—a beautiful Malta cat. He tied a pink ribbon around her neck for a collar.”