The Little Lame Prince by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
page 12 of 160 (07%)
page 12 of 160 (07%)
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to his royal brother, were sitting together, with Prince Dolor playing
in a corner of the room, dragging himself about with his arms rather than his legs, and sometimes trying feebly to crawl from one chair to another, it seemed to strike the father that all was not right with his son. "How old is his Royal Highness?" said he suddenly to the nurse. "Two years, three months, and five days, please your Majesty." "It does not please me," said the King, with a sigh. "He ought to be far more forward than he is now ought he not, brother? You, who have so many children, must know. Is there not something wrong about him?" "Oh, no," said the Crown-Prince, exchanging meaning looks with the nurse, who did not understand at all, but stood frightened and trembling with the tears in her eyes. "Nothing to make your Majesty at all uneasy. No doubt his Royal Highness will outgrow it in time." "Outgrow--what?" "A slight delicacy--ahem!--in the spine; something inherited, perhaps, from his dear mother." "Ah, she was always delicate; but she was the sweetest woman that ever lived. Come here, my little son." And as the Prince turned round upon his father a small, sweet, grave face,--so like his mother's,--his Majesty the King smiled and held out his arms. But when the boy came to him, not running like a boy, but |
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