“I is kene,” (queen), she said, “and—him is king!” and she pointed with rapture at the boy.
“Oh, you’re king, are you, Ralph?” said the gentleman. Then he said again: “Come over to me, little queen, and let me introduce you to the king.”
Never was anyone less shy than the school baby, and never, perhaps, was anyone more fickle. She scrambled immediately off Robina’s knee and, pushing aside her companions, went up to the boy and took his hand.
“Tiss I—king; won’t oo?” she said, and she raised her little cherubic mouth to the small boy.
The boy, who was no more shy than Curly Pate herself, stooped, kissed her, and said:
“Oh, you little darling!” Curly Pate gave her fat hand to his Majesty, and the king and queen trotted off together.
“Does oo ’ike fairies, and butterflies and flowers?” the queen was heard to say as she conducted His Majesty round the garden.
The girls all looked after them with pleasure, and the gentleman said to Mrs Burton:
“Then I shall have no fear whatever. I see he is happy already, and I know all you girls will treat my little man kindly.”
“Of course we will,” said Robina, taking the lead in that way which nearly drove poor Harriet mad. “Is he going to stay here? What a perfect little darling he is!”