"But I don't see much, yet," said Faith. "I don't understand the story nor you. I think you have taken me a great many rides on that horse."
"Not en princesse," said Mr. Linden smiling. "The story is very simple, my dear. After shewing his wife various places of interest, and letting his friends see her, the prince arrives at home. It is said that he then finds his fortune—but I think that part of the story is fabulous, so don't set your heart upon it."
"That's the story—but what do you mean, Endy?"
"To give you such a ride. I mean that I am the prince, and that you (will be) the princess, who shall do all these things."
Faith jumped up. "Do you!"—
"Truly I do, dear Mignonette."
Faith's face was changing. The undoubted joy in her eye had yet a check somewhere.
"But Endecott—"
"Qu'est-ce que c'est, Mademoiselle?"
"You haven't a wooden horse!"—she said with a delicious and most delicate mixture of frankness and timidity.