“Yes,” Mavis replied, “of course they do.”
“Then how could I stop them? I mean to say, what would be the good of stopping them, if they know already it is wrong?” said the princess.
Mavis looked puzzled.
“But if—if—they were to hurt or frighten old Adam or Winfried?” she said.
Forget-me-not smiled again.
“Ah yes,” she said, “that I can promise you shall not be. But beyond that, if it is in their hearts wilfully to do what they know to be wrong, I fear, little Mavis, I fear they must do it, and perhaps learn thereby. When people know—”
Mavis’s eyes told that she understood; she looked very grave, but still somewhat relieved.
“I am glad you won’t let it hurt Winfried or his grandfather,” she said. “But oh, I can’t bear Ruby to be made naughty by that horrid boy,” and she seemed on the point of bursting into tears. “Dear princess,” she went on, “couldn’t you speak to her—the way you do to me? You make me feel that I would—I would do anything you told me.”
“Dear child, Ruby cannot hear me yet; she cannot see me. If she could, she would feel as you. Be patient, Mavis, love her as you have always done; that will not be difficult. But that is not all. You must try to love Bertrand too.”
Mavis’s face grew very long.