After Prince was gone, the princess, by degrees, fell back into some of her bad old ways, from which only the presence of the dog, not her own betterment, had kept her. She never grew nearly so selfish again, but she began to let her angry old self lift up its head once more, until by and by she grew so bad that the shepherdess declared she should not stop in the house a day longer, for she was quite unendurable.
“It is all very well for you, husband,” she said, “for you haven’t her all day about you, and only see the best of her. But if you had her in work instead of play hours, you would like her no better than I do. And then it’s not her ugly passions only, but when she’s in one of her tantrums, it’s impossible to get any work out of her. At such times she’s just as obstinate as—as—as”—
She was going to say “as Agnes,” but the feelings of a mother overcame her, and she could not utter the words.
“In fact,” she said instead, “she makes my life miserable.”
The shepherd felt he had no right to tell his wife she must submit to have her life made miserable, and therefore, although he was really much attached to Rosamond, he would not interfere; and the shepherdess told her she must look out for another place.
The princess was, however, this much better than before, even in respect of her passions, that they were not quite so bad, and after one was over, she was really ashamed of it. But not once, ever since the departure of Prince had she tried to check the rush of the evil temper when it came upon her. She hated it when she was out of it, and that was something; but while she was in it, she went full swing with it wherever the prince of