"Her name must be Sophonisba," said the little boy gravely. "That sounds something like a Princess."
"Topanithba," repeated the little girl, very much pleased; and she pressed me close to her heart.
Suddenly a cloud passed over the face of the little boy. He looked at me hard for a minute, and then he spoke.
"No, that won't do at all," he said; "I am an old French King, and we're under the old Salic law. She mustn't be a Princess, or she'll never come to the throne. We must pretend she is a Prince, and we'll call her Jack."
You should have seen the little girl's face at this. All the dimples went out of it, and she looked quite frightened.
"Oh, don't call her Jack, dear," she cried; "it's so ugly. And I'd rather she was a Princess."
"HE TURNED HIS BACK TO HER" (p. [79]).
"Then she'll never come to the throne," said the boy solemnly. "I read it lately in my history."