e
beach--the pony playfully allowing his mistress to win. She climbed
the highest rocks in search of wild-flowers, and wove the sweet
flowers into garlands; at length, recollecting how long she had been
gone from home, she mounted her pony and galloped on toward the
castle, her head wreathed with holly, and her arms full of flowers. As
she entered the avenue there stood her impatient nurse awaiting her.

"My dear, darling young lady, what an age you have been away. We have
all been watching--"

"Has he come?"

"Who, the prince?"

"My dear uncle--has he come?"

"Yes, my dearest lady. They both came, Prince Ferdinand and your
guardian, soon after you left, and have been here for three long
mortal hours waiting for you very anxiously. The prince looks very
noble and handsome, and is dressed most magnificently. You must not be
disappointed though, dearest lady, for he is somewhat changed."

"Changed! How changed, dear nurse? I have not seen him these six or
seven years, ever since, you remember the time, he and my cousin duke,
his father, with so many others, went to fight those horrid Turks."

"He looks older, much older than he did--that, though, must be--yes,
it must be on account--"

"Older! why you simple, queer little nurse, he _is_ older. Why should
he not look--I expect to see him look half as old as Methuselah at
least. How shockingly old one must feel if they live to be
twenty-eight."

"Yes, he _does_ seem older than I expected to see him--though, to be
sure, he has been, for the last seven years engaged in the wars; yes,
that must be it. Nothing makes one grow old so fast as fighting. But,
dear lady, come, now, and dress, there's a darling. You will have just
about time enough before dinner. But where is your bonnet?"

"Up in the branch of a tree, nursey dear. It will make some bird a
delightful nest next spring. I lost it getting this curious white
flower. Look at it. It grew in an almost inaccessible spot upon the
cliff by the sea."

"You are a dear little kid clambering among those ugly rocks. Let me
take some of your flowers, your bundle is nearly as big as yourself.
The saints preserve us! if there are not your uncle guardian and the
prince! And you in such a tattered plight. For the love of Heaven,
dear lady, come in here among these bushes until--"

But the little dame had to finish her speech to the winds, for the
impulsive Isoleth had sprung from her pony, and was clasped in her
guardian