The Princess arose and sat on the seat Laddie had made for the Queen's daughter.

It was an awful pity to tell her she shouldn't sit there, for I had my doubts if the real, true Princess would be half as lovely when she came--if she ever did.

Some way the Princess, who was not a Princess, appeared so real, I couldn't keep from becoming confused and forgetting that she was only just Pamela Pryor.

Already the lovely lights had gone from her face until it made me so sad I wanted to cry, and I was no easy cry-baby either.

If I couldn't offer friendship for my family I would for myself.
"You may call me Little Sister, if you like," I said.