“Oh, well, then we must talk to Lady Chauncy about it to-morrow,” said Wynkin, as he stole a sly glance at her ladyship, who smiled in her white prim frame of a cap. “It is a grave question, and will have to be considered.”
“No, it will not,” said the Prince of Wales. “’Tis proper for my wishes to be obeyed.”
“Well, if you promise not to run away, perhaps——”
“Run away—I do not want to run away. I——”
“You’d promise you wouldn’t?”
“Certainly.”
“On your honor?”
“Honor bright,” murmured Charles as he fell asleep again.
