It is not a pretty plaything for little girls!" The small figure in white put up a tiny fat hand, and solemnly withdrew the red patch of mask from before the wide-open baby eyes.
"I am not a little _girl_, remember, mannie," she said, "I am a Princess and a great lady." My father bowed without rising.
"I shall not forget," he said.
"You should stand up and bow when I tell you that," said she.

"I declare you have no more manners than the little boy in the brown blanket down-stairs." "Princess," said my father, gravely, "during my life I have met a great many distinguished people of your rank; and, do you know, not one of them has ever complained of my manners before." "Ah," cried the little maid, "then you have never met my father, the Prince.

He is terribly particular.

You must go _so_" (she imitated the mincing walk of a court chamberlain), "you must hold your tails thus" (wagging her white nightrail and twisting about her head to watch the effect), "and you must retire--so!" With that she came bowing backward towards the well of the staircase, so far that I was almost afraid she would fall plump into my arms.

But she checked herself in time, and without looking round or seeing me she tripped back to my father's bedside and sat down quite confidingly beside him.
"Now you see," cried she, "what you would have had to put up with if you had met my father.