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I thought " and then in a perfect jumble of words Elsie went on, and poured forth her contrition and explanation, at the same time introducing Jimmy Barrows, who knew just what to say, and said it with such effect that Royal's spirits went up with a bound, and almost before he knew to what he had consented, he was sitting on the little back seat of the phaeton, talking with these "city folks" as if they were his best friends, as they turned out to be.
The costume of the cavaliers who accompanied the prince was of the same style, but less rich. As this group of handsome and richly-attired gentlemen entered the saloon, the bright eyes of the ladies sparkled, and their cheeks colored with pleasure. The princess royal's countenance was illumined with delight; never had she seen the prince so handsome, never had he looked so loving.
How was it Tottie never came here as she promised? Is it to be some other time? Do think of Florence, if ever you feel chilly, and hear quantities about the Princess Royal's marriage, and want a change. I hate the thought of leaving Italy for one day more than I can help and satisfy my English predilections by newspapers and a book or two.
She thought she had rubbed out Polly's image and made a impression herself on Royal's heart that only needed stompin' in a little deeper, and she thought ridicule would be the stomper she needed.
Questions and answers, only half distinguishable, blew between them, with explosions of laughter, and a thunder of claps on each other's shoulders. When their gale was at its noisiest, Royal's part of it abruptly sank to a dead calm, stopped by "an angel unawares."
During the first half-dozen miles of the way, though each one manfully did his best to be lively, a sense of loss made their fun flat and pointless. Royal's tear-away tongue, his brothers' racket, Joe's racy talk, Uncle Eb's kind, dark face, and more than all, Doc's companionship, which was as tonic to the hearts of those who travelled with him, were missed.
Royal's four mile up the Little Bill Hill." "But about the nabob Mr. Merrick, I think you called him?" "Yes; John Merrick. He bought the Cap'n Wegg place an' spent summer 'fore last on it him an' his three gals as is his nieces." "Oh; three girls." "Yes. Clever gals, too. Stirred things up some at Millville, I kin tell you, stranger.
"Well, what about my Province?" the Governor asked. "Not so bad," the Inspector answered, with Royal's head between his knees. "Of course, all the villages want remission of taxes, but, as far as I can see, the whole country's stinkin' with foxes. Our trouble will be choppin' 'em in cover. I've got a list of the only villages entitled to any remission.
The corridor, among its innumerable vases, cabinets, and pictures of kings and great men including a fine portrait of Sir Walter Scott has a whole series of pictures illustrating, the leading events of her Majesty's life, from her "First Council," by Wilkie, through her marriage, the baptisms of the Princess Royal and the Prince of Wales, the first reception of Louis Philippe, &c., &c., to the Princess Royal's marriage.
And he said that I didn't know who my father and mother are, and that I would be ashamed of them if I did, that's what he said." Into Mrs. Royal's eyes came an expression of deep concern, mingled with indignation. "You poor boy," she soothed, taking his little left hand in hers. "You have had great troubles to-day, have you not?" "But am I a pauper, grandma?" the boy insisted.
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