night to Curdie; but the princess pulled her hand from hers, and was just throwing her arms round Curdie’s neck, when she caught her again and dragged her away.
“Lootie! Lootie! I promised a kiss,” cried Irene.
“A princess mustn’t give kisses. It’s not at all proper,” said Lootie.
“But I promised,” said the princess.
“There’s no occasion; he’s only a miner-boy.”
“He’s a good boy, and a brave boy, and he has been very kind to us. Lootie! Lootie! I promised .”
“Then you shouldn’t have promised.”
“Lootie, I promised him a kiss.”
“Your Royal Highness,” said Lootie, suddenly grown very respectful, “must come in directly.”
“Nurse, a princess must not break her word,” said Irene, drawing herself up and standing stock-still.
Lootie did not know which the king might count the worst—to let the princess be out after sunset, or to let her kiss a miner-boy. She did not know that, being a gentleman, as many kings have been, he would have counted neither of them the worse. However much he might have disliked his daughter to kiss the miner-boy, he would not have had her break her word for all the goblins in creation. But, as I say, the nurse was not lady enough to understand this, and so she was in a great difficulty, for, if she insisted, someone might hear the princess cry and run to see, and then all would come out. But here Curdie came again to the rescue.