"The boy remembered it then,"went on Mr.Jack,after a pause,--"about the money,and that she was a Princess.And of course he knew--when he thought of it--that he could not expect that a Princess would wave like a girl--just a girl.Besides,very likely she did not care particularly about seeing him.
Princesses did forget,he fancied,--they had so much,so very much to fill their lives.It was this thought that kept him from going to see her--this,and the recollection that,after all,if she really HAD wanted to see him,she could have waved.
"There came a day,however,when another youth,who did not dare to go alone,persuaded him,and together they paid her a call.
The boy understood,then,many things.He found the Princess;there was no sign of the girl.The Princess was tall and dignified,with a cold little hand and a smooth,sweet voice.
There was no frank smile in her eyes,neither were there any mischievous crinkles about her nose and lips.There was no mention of towers or flags;no reference to wavings or to childhood's days.There was only a stiffly polite little conversation about colleges and travels,with a word or two about books and plays.Then the callers went home.On the way the boy smiled scornfully to himself.He was trying to picture the beauteous vision he had seen,this unapproachable Princess in her filmy lace gown,--standing in the tower window and waving--waving to a bit of a house on the opposite hill.As if that could happen!
"The boy,during those last three years,had known only books.He knew little of girls--only one girl--and he knew still less of Princesses.So when,three days after the call,there came a chance to join a summer camp with a man who loved books even better than did the boy himself,he went gladly.Once he had refused to go on this very trip;but then there had been the girl.Now there was only the Princess--and the Princess didn't count.""Like the hours that aren't sunshiny,"interpreted David.
"Yes,"corroborated Mr.Jack."Like the hours when the sun does n't shine.""And then?"prompted Jill.
"Well,then,--there wasn't much worth telling,"rejoined Mr.
Jack gloomily."Two more years passed,and the Princess grew to be twenty-one.She came into full control of her property then,and after a while she came back to the old stone house with the towers and turned it into a fairyland of beauty.She spent money like water.All manner of artists,from the man who painted her ceilings to the man who planted her seeds,came and bowed to her will.From the four corners of the earth she brought her treasures and lavished them through the house and grounds.Then,every summer,she came herself,and lived among them,a very Princess indeed.""And the boy?--what became of the boy?"demanded David."Didn't he see her--ever?"Mr.Jack shook his head.
"Not often,David;and when he did,it did not make him any--happier.You see,the boy had become the Pauper;you must n't forget that.""But he wasn't a Pauper when you left him last.""Wasn't he?Well,then,I'll tell you about that.You see,the boy,even though he did go away,soon found out that in his heart the Princess was still the girl,just the same.He loved her,and he wanted her to be his wife;so for a little--for a very little--he was wild enough to think that he might work and study and do great things in the world until he was even a Prince himself,and then he could marry the Princess.""Well,couldn't he?"
"No.To begin with,he lost his health.Then,away back in the little house on the hill something happened--a something that left a very precious charge for him to keep;and he had to go back and keep it,and to try to see if he couldn't find that lost health,as well.And that is all.""All!You don't mean that that is the end!"exclaimed Jill.
"That's the end."
"But that isn't a mite of a nice end,"complained David."They always get married and live happy ever after--in stories.""Do they?"Mr.Jack smiled a little sadly."Perhaps they do,David,--in stories.""Well,can't they in this one?"
"I don't see how."
"Why can't he go to her and ask her to marry him?"Mr.Jack drew himself up proudly.
"The Pauper and the Princess?Never!Paupers don't go to Princesses,David,and say,'I love you.'"David frowned.
"Why not?I don't see why--if they want to do it.Seems as if somehow it might be fixed.""It can't be,"returned Mr.Jack,his gaze on the towers that crowned the opposite hill;"not so long as always before the Pauper's eyes there are those gray walls behind which he pictures the Princess in the midst of her golden luxury."To neither David nor Jill did the change to the present tense seem strange.The story was much too real to them for that.
"Well,anyhow,I think it ought to be fixed,"declared David,as he rose to his feet.
"So do I--but we can't fix it,"laughed Jill."And I'm hungry.
Let's see what there is to eat!"
