“Far too charming to be real,” commented Neeland. “You are a pretty fairy story, Princess Naïa, and your gown is a miracle tale which never was true.”
He had not dared any such flippancy with Rue Carew, and the girl, who knew she was exquisitely gowned, felt an odd little pang in her heart as this young man’s praise of the Princess Mistchenka fell so easily and gaily from his lips. He might have noticed her gown, as it had been chosen with many doubts, much hesitation, and anxious consideration, for him.
She flushed a little at the momentary trace of envy:
“You are too lovely for words,” she said, rising. But the Princess gently forced her to resume her seat. 314
“If this young man has any discrimination,” she said, “he won’t hesitate with the golden apple, Ruhannah.”
Rue laughed and flushed:
“He hasn’t noticed my gown, and I wore it for him to notice,” she said. “But he was too deeply interested in Sandy and in tea and croissants––”
“I did notice it!” said Neeland. And, to that young man’s surprise and annoyance, his face grew hot with embarrassment. What on earth possessed him to blush like a plow-boy! He suddenly felt like one, too, and turned sharply to the little dog, perplexed, irritated with himself and his behaviour.
Behind him the Princess was saying:
“The car is here. I shan’t stop for tea, dear. In case anything happens, I am at the Embassy.”