So, upon entering, I said: 

“His grace, the Duke of Suffolk, ladies.”

They each made a sweeping courtesy, with hand on breast, and gravely saluted him: 

“Your grace! good even’.”

Brandon’s bow was as deep and graceful, if that were possible, as theirs, and when he moved on into the room it was with a little halt in his step, and a big blowing out of the cheeks, in ludicrous imitation of his late lamented predecessor, that sent the girls into peals of soft laughter and put us all at our ease immediately.

Ah! what a thing it is to look back upon; that time of life when one finds his heaven in a ready laugh!

“Be seated all,” said the princess.  “This is to be without ceremony, and only we four.  No one knows a word of it.  Did you tell any one, Sir Edwin?”

“Perish the thought,” I exclaimed.

She turned her face toward Brandon, “—­but I know you did not.  I’ve heard how discreet you were about another matter.  Well, no one knows it then, and we can have a famous evening.  You did not expect this, Master Brandon, after my reception of you the other morning?  Were you not surprised when Sir Edwin told you?”

“I think I can safely say that I was prepared not to be surprised at anything your highness might graciously conclude to do—­after my first experience,” he answered, smiling.

“Indeed?” returned Mary with elevated eyebrows, and a rising inflection on the last syllable of the word.  It was now her turn for a little surprise.  “Well, we’ll try to find some way to surprise you one of these days;” and the time came when she was full of surprises for him.  Mary continued:  “But let us not talk about the other day.  Of what use are ‘other days,’ anyway?  Before the evening is over, Master Brandon, we want you to give us another sermon,” and she laughed, setting off three other laughs as hearty and sincere as if she had uttered the rarest witticism on earth.

The princess had told Jane and Jane had told me of the “Sermon in the Park,” as Mary called it.

“Jane needs it as much as I,” said the princess.

“I can’t believe that,” responded Brandon, looking at Jane with a softening glance quite too admiring and commendatory to suit me; for I was a jealous little devil.

The eyebrows went up again.

“Oh! you think she doesn’t?  Well, in truth, Master Brandon, there is one failing that can not be laid at your door; you are no flatterer.”  For answer Brandon laughed, and that gave us the cue, and away we went in a rippling chorus, all about nothing.  Some persons may call our laughter foolish, but there are others who consider it the height of all wisdom.  St. George!  I’d give my Garter for just one other laugh like that; for just one other hour of youth’s dancing blood and glowing soul-warmth; of sweet, unconscious, happy heart-beat and paradise-creating joy in everything.

After a few minutes of gay conversation, in which we all joined, Mary asked:  “What shall we do?  Will one of you suggest something?”