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“Oh, Hermy dear!” she cried, clasping frail hands, “oh, Hermy, you’ve brought him—you’ve brought me our fairy prince at last!”
Now what was there in these childish words to cause Hermione’s eyes to droop so suddenly as she took the bottle from Ravenslee’s hand, or her rounded cheek to flush so painfully as she stooped to meet the child’s eager kiss, or, when she turned away to measure a dose of the medicine, to be such an unconscionable time over it? Observing all of which, Ravenslee forthwith saluted the small invalid with a grave bow, battered hat gracefully flourished.
“It is truly an honour to meet you, princess!” said he, and lifting the child’s frail little hand, he touched it to his lips. Thereafter, obeying the mute appeal of that hand, he seated himself upon the narrow bed, while Hermione, soft-voiced and tender, bent above the invalid, who, having obediently swallowed her medicine, leaned back on her pillow and smiled from one to the other.
“And now,” said she, drawing Hermione down at her other side and snuggling between, “now please let’s all tell some more fairy tale; an’ please, you begin, Hermy, just where you had t’ leave off last time.”
“Why, I—I’m afraid I’ve forgotten, dear,” said Hermione, bending to smooth the child’s pillow.
“Forgotten—oh, Hermy! But I ‘member quite well; you got where poor Princess Nobody was climbing the mountain very tired an’ sad an’ carrying her heavy pack, an’ all at once—along came the Prince an’ took her heavy bundle and said he’d love to carry it for her always if she’d let him. An’ poor Nobody knew he was the real Prince at last—the Prince she’d dreamed of an’ waited for all her life, ‘cos he’d got grey eyes so brave an’ true—an’ he was so big an’ strong an’ noble. So he helped her to the top of the mountain, an’ then she thought at last she could see the beautiful City of Perhaps. That’s where you got to—don’t you ‘member, Hermy dear?”
Now why should Hermione’s shapely head have drooped and drooped until at last her face was hidden on the pillow? And why should Geoffrey Ravenslee reach to touch the child’s hair with hand so light and tender?
“The beautiful City of Perhaps,” said he gently, “why, Princess, where did you learn about that?”
“From dear Princess Nobody, oh, Prince!”
“And who is she?”
“Why, she’s Hermy, Prince—and I’m Princess Somebody. And oh, Hermy dear, you do ‘member where you left off now, don’t you?”
“Yes, I remember; but I—don’t feel like telling fairy stories now, dear.”
“Oh! are y’ sick?” cried the child anxiously, touching Hermione’s golden hair with loving fingers, “is it a headache like my mumsey gets?”
“N-no, dear, only I—I don’t feel like telling any more of our story—to-night—somehow, dear.”
“Princess,” said Ravenslee, “do you know much about the wonderful City of Perhaps?”
“Oh, yes—an’ I dream about it sometimes, Prince—such beautiful dreams!”
“Why, of course,” nodded Ravenslee, “because it is the most beautiful City that ever happened, I guess!”
“Oh, it is!” cried the child, “shall I tell you?”
“Please do, Princess.”
“Well, it’s all made of crystal an’ gold, an’ every one’s happy there and never sick—oh, never! An’ all the children can have ices an’ cream sodas whenever they want an’ lovely doll-carriages with rubber on the wheels an’—an’ everything’s just lovely. Of course every one’s daddy’s got lots an’ heaps an’ piles of money, so they never get behind with the rent an’ never have to set up all night stitching an’ stitching like mumsey an’ Hermy have to sometimes. An’ I’m Princess Somebody, an’ Hermy’s Princess Nobody, an’ we’re on our ways through the valley of gloom, trying to find the beautiful City of Perhaps—but oh, it’s awful hard to find!” she ended, with a weary little sigh.
