"
There was a certain amount of conceit in Clarence's voice and
manner, patent even to so inexperienced a person as Joy. He seemed
to think that all he had to do was take! Joy looked at him curiously
for a moment, and then she sighed. Sometimes she almost wished
somebody _would_ take her mind off caring so much for John.
"But this isn't real," she suddenly thought, "the sunshine and the
gaiety and these kind, handsome Harrington people being good to me,
and this Clarence person posing about and trying to toy with my
young affections--why, it's like a fairy tale or a play! ... I just
rubbed the wishing ring, and it happened!"
She forgot Clarence again and began to sing softly under her breath,
watching the ruffled water.
"What are you thinking, Melisande?" asked Clarence softly.
Joy lifted her wide innocent eyes and gave him a discreet version.
"That, after all, this is a glade in Fairyland, and I am the
princess, and you--the dragon," she ended under her breath.
But Clarence, naturally enough, wasn't given to casting himself as a
dragon. He was perfectly certain he was a prince, and said so with
charming frankness.
Joy continued to sing to herself.
"I don't see why I shouldn't kiss your hand, if I'm a prince," he
observed next. "In fact, as nice a little hand as you have really
calls for such."
He reached for it--the nearest, with the wishing ring on it.
She snatched it indignantly away and clasped her hand indignantly
over the ring.
Pages:
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148