"Sir," said he, with a profound obeisance, proffering the tart at
the same time between his thumb and forefinger, "will you so far
honour an entire stranger? I can answer for the quality of the
pastry, having eaten two dozen and three of them myself since five
o'clock."

"I am in the habit," replied the Prince, "of looking not so much to
the nature of a gift as to the spirit in which it is offered."

"The spirit, sir," returned the young man, with another bow, "is
one of mockery."

"Mockery?" repeated Florizel. "And whom do you propose to mock?"

"I am not here to expound my philosophy," replied the other, "but
to distribute these cream tarts. If I mention that I heartily
include myself in the ridicule of the transaction, I hope you will
consider honour satisfied and condescend. If not, you will
constrain me to eat my twenty-eighth, and I own to being weary of
the exercise."

"You touch me," said the Prince, "and I have all the will in the
world to rescue you from this dilemma, but upon one condition. If
my friend and I eat your cakes - for which we have neither of us
any natural inclination - we shall expect you to join us at supper
by way of recompense."

The young man seemed to reflect.