Brandon started off and soon found a bevy of girls sitting on some benches under a spreading oak, weaving spring flowers.  He had never seen the princess, so could not positively know her.  As a matter of fact, he did know her, as soon as his eyes rested on her, for she could not be mistaken among a thousand—­there was no one like her or anything near it.  Some stubborn spirit of opposition, however, prompted him to pretend ignorance.  All that he had heard of her wonderful power over men, and the servile manner in which they fell before her, had aroused in him a spirit of antagonism, and had begotten a kind of distaste beforehand.  He was wrong in this, because Mary was not a coquette in any sense of the word, and did absolutely nothing to attract men, except to be so beautiful, sweet and winning that they could not let her alone; for all of which surely the prince of fault-finders himself could in no way blame her.

She could not help that God had seen fit to make her the fairest being on earth, and the responsibility would have to lie where it belonged—­with God; Mary would have none of it.  Her attractiveness was 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.

Quick as a flash came the answer:  “I can not say of what consequence the Princess Mary is about the court; it is not my place to determine such matters.  I am sure, however, she is not here, for I doubt not she would have given a gentle answer to a message from the queen.  I shall continue my search.”  With this, he turned to leave, and the ladies, including Jane, who was there and saw it all and told me of it, awaited the bolt they knew would come, for they saw the lightning gathering in Mary’s eyes.