All the dancing lights went from her face. She looked as if she
were going to cry unless she hurried up and swallowed it down
hard and fast.

"That is quite true," she said. "I am a stranger. Do you know
that being a stranger is the hardest thing that can happen to any
one in all this world?"

"Then why don't you open your doors, invite your neighbours in,
go to see them, and stop your father from saying such dreadful
things?"

"They are not my doors," she said, "and could you keep your
father from saying anything he chooses?"

I stood and blinked at her. Of course I wouldn't even dare try
that.

"I'm so sorry," was all I could think to say.

I couldn't ask her to come to our house. I knew no one wanted
her. But if I couldn't speak for the others, surely I might for
myself. I let go the willows and went to the door. The Princess
arose and sat on the seat Laddie had made for the Queen's
daughter. It was an awful pity to tell her she shouldn't sit
there, for I had my doubts if the real, true Princess would be
half as lovely when she came--if she ever did. Some way the
Princess, who was not a Princess, appeared so real, I couldn't
keep from becoming confused and forgetting that she was only just