"Yes."
"He goeth up and down in a basket outside the house. Once I went too, and he held me so tight that it hurt. He is too old to play with."
He came a little farther into the room, eying Mary wistfully. She was stately as well as tall, and the high lace commode she wore, and the stiff arrangement of her heavy curls, further added to her dignity. The child looked at her in some awe.
"Are you cross with me?" he asked gravely.
"No," answered the Queen—"no—but your father will be looking for you—best go and find him."
"I have lost my way," he said, subdued by her coldness. "I was asleep in there." He pointed to the little sunny annexe to the turret from which he had come. "I am glad I met you, ma'am."
"Why?" asked Mary.
The child smiled, in an effort to win her.
"I get frightened when I am alone," he said. "Don't you, ma'am?"
"Sometimes," answered the Queen; she bit her lip and fixed her narrowed brown eyes on the boy; he was fair, and rather delicate, and wore a shabby suit of red tabinet.