“And the girl's name was Lucy?”
“Yes; they did not call her a saint then, but she was trying to be as cheerful as a certain good woman she had heard of, and so the queen had that name for her, though she did not let her know it for a long time.”
“That's not bad for a Sunday story, but there might have been more about the princes, seems to me,” was Frank's criticism, as Jill lay very still, trying to hide her face behind the carnation, for she had no words to tell how touched and pleased she was to find that her little efforts to be good had been seen, remembered, and now rewarded in this way.
“There is more.”
“Then the story isn't done?” cried Jack.
“Oh dear, no; the most interesting things are to come, if you can wait for them.”
“Yes, I see, this is the moral part. Now keep still, and let us have the rest,” commanded Frank, while the others composed themselves for the sequel, suspecting that it was rather nice, because Mamma's sober face changed, and her eyes laughed as they looked at the fire.
“The elder prince was very fond of driving dragons, for the people of that country used these fiery monsters as horses.”
“And got run away with, didn't he?” laughed Jack, adding, with great interest, “What did the other fellow do?”
“He went about fighting other people's battles, helping the poor, and trying to do good. But he lacked judgment, so he often got into trouble, and was in such a hurry that he did not always stop to find out the wisest way. As when he gave away his best coat to a beggar boy, instead of the old one which he intended to give.”