"How delightful to be a Colonel," said Lady Helen. "I would wear the
uniform all the time--if it were becoming."
"How could it be otherwise?" I exclaimed.
"No sarcasm, sir," she said sharply.
"No, Major Dalberg, no sarcasm," Dehra cautioned, "or you will be
asking, presently, if I won my commission on the field of battle."
"I would rather not imagine you on the field of battle," I answered.
"Well, you needn't," she laughed. "It's an infliction of birth. It
belongs to the eldest child of the King without regard to sex."
"It's a pity, in your case, the crown does not follow the Colonelcy," I
thought--but I did not say it.
At one of the private entrances we drew up. The Princess was out of
saddle as quickly as myself; but the Lady Helen waited.
"If you don't want to stay I can contrive some excuse," she whispered,
as I lifted her down.
"I'm quite willing to risk a royal breakfast if you are," I answered.
"Brave man," she mocked, gathering up her skirt; "you wouldn't flinch
at leading a forlorn hope."
"Watch me follow one," I retorted, as I brought up the rear.
"Which one?" she asked over her shoulder; but I did not answer.
The breakfast was served in a charming little room--which I assumed to
be a portion of the Princess' private suite--and was of the sort to
provoke more early morning rides along the Old Forge Road.
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