“Master Brandon, the princess wishes to see you.”  Then, maliciously:  “You will suffer this time.  I assure you she is not used to such treatment.  It was glorious, though, to see you resent such an affront.  Men usually smirk and smile foolishly and thank her when she smites them.”

Brandon was disinclined to return.

“I am not in her highness’s command,” he answered, “and do not care to go back for a reprimand when I am in no way to blame.”

“Oh, but you must come; perhaps she will not scold this time,” and she put her hand upon his arm, and laughingly drew him along.  Brandon, of course, had to submit when led by so sweet a captor—­anybody would.  So fresh, and fair, and lovable was Jane, that I am sure anything masculine must have given way.

Coming up to the princess and her ladies, who were waiting, Jane said:  “Lady Mary, let me present Master Brandon, who, if he has offended in any way, humbly sues for pardon.”  That was the one thing Brandon had no notion on earth of doing, but he let it go as Jane had put it, and this was his reward: 

“It is not Master Brandon who should sue for pardon,” responded the princess, “it is I who was wrong.  I blush for what I did and said.  Forgive me, sir, and let us start anew.”  At this she stepped up to Brandon and offered him her hand, which he, dropping to his knee, kissed most gallantly.

“Your highness, you can well afford to offend when you have so sweet and gracious a talent for making amends.  ‘A wrong acknowledged,’ as some one has said, ‘becomes an obligation.’” He looked straight into the girl’s eyes as he said this, and his gaze was altogether too strong for her, so the lashes fell.  She flushed and said with a smile that brought the dimples: 

“I thank you; that is a real compliment.”  Then laughingly:  “Much better than extravagant comments on one’s skin, and eyes, and hair.  We are going to the queen at the marble landing.  Will you walk with us, sir?” And they strolled away together, while the other girls followed in a whispering, laughing group.

Was there ever so glorious a calm after such a storm?

“Then those mythological compliments,” continued Mary, “don’t you dislike them?”

“I can’t say that I have ever received many—­none that I recall,” replied Brandon, with a perfectly straight face, but with a smile trying its best to break out.

“Oh! you have not?  Well! how would you like to have somebody always telling you that Apollo was humpbacked and misshapen compared with you; that Endymion would have covered his face had he but seen yours, and so on?”

“I don’t know, but I think I should like it—­from some persons,” he replied, looking ever so innocent.

This savored of familiarity after so brief an acquaintance, and caused the princess to glance up in slight surprise; but only for the instant, for his innocent look disarmed her.