The Prince laughed.
‘But like romance it can sometimes be terribly tiresome! You will agree with me because you, too, have a keeper!’
‘I?’
Mistral looked towards him in surprise.
‘Yes, you,’ the Prince replied. ‘Your aunt is a dragon. She frightens me most terribly.’
‘I too, am frightened of Aunt Emilie,’ Mistral confessed, ‘but I cannot see why you should be frightened of her. She is always very nice to you.’
I think that is what frightens me,’ the Prince said, but he smiled and there was obviously no truth in his assertion. ‘But tell me about yourself, little Mademoiselle, why do you always wear grey?’
He touched Mistral’s skirt as he spoke, for the wide folds of grey foulard were spread wide over the carriage seat, and then he looked at the soft fichu of grey muslin crossed over
