not a matter of volition or intention on her part. She was too young
for deliberate snare-setting--though it often begins very early in
life--and made no effort to attract men. Man's love was too cheap a
thing for her to strive for, and I am sure, in her heart, she would
infinitely have preferred to live without it--that is, until the right
one should come. The right one is always on his way, and, first or
last, is sure to come to every woman--sometimes, alas! too late--and
when he comes, be it late or early, she crowns him, even though he be
a long-eared ass. Blessed crown! and thrice-blessed blindness--else
there were fewer coronations.

So Brandon stirred this antagonism and determined not to see her
manifold perfections, which he felt sure were exaggerated; but to
treat her as he would the queen--who was black and leathery enough to
frighten a satyr--with all respect due to her rank, but with his own
opinion of her nevertheless, safely stored away in the back of his
head.

Coming up to the group, Brandon took off his hat, and, with a graceful
little bow that let the curls fall around his face, asked: "Have I the
honor to find the Princess Mary among these ladies?"

Mary, who I know you will at once say was thoroughly spoiled, without
turning her face toward him, replied:

"Is the Princess Mary a person of so little consequence about the
court that she is not known to a mighty captain of the guard?"

He wore his guardsman's doublet, and she knew his rank by his
uniform. She had not noticed his face.