"I cease to love thee, sweetest! Never!"
"You are quite sure you love me, then?" she said. "And you will never desert me?"
"Desert thee! my angel," said I. "Do you think I could be so base?"
"Hush!" she whispered. "Here comes mamma," and she dived downstairs.
"Lurline, Lurline," cried her majesty, who had overheard every word of our conversation. "Lurline, come here; I wish to speak with you."
Up swam Lurline again, pale with fright. She entered her mother's room, and the queen turned the key. I heard the mother's voice within speaking angrily, and half-an-hour afterwards Lurline left the chamber, sobbing.
I came forward to soothe her, but she motioned me away, and put her finger to her lip. I dived after her downstairs, resolved to hear the worst. It seems her mother had scolded her for flirting; said she was too young to marry; that I was too old for her; that she knew nothing of my family; and that she must not fix her affections upon anyone who was not of royal blood.
"Here, then," thought I, "among this simple primitive people, there is as much aristocratic pride as in our more civilised countries."
What was to be done? Relinquish Lurline for a foolish piece of barbarous pride. I couldn't and wouldn't. There was nothing left me but to speak to his majesty; assume as much dignity as I could and boast of my pedigree.
At breakfast I thought both the king and queen cold towards me, but I appeared not to notice it, and talked away fluently about my country, my family, and insinuated, rather than said outright, that I was of royal blood.