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312 her hands and looked up imploringly into the face of her guardian.

"Speak, my good woman, you know I told you once that if you should come to me for help, I would gladly grant your request; I know you would not beg for any one who is unworthy," said the Princess, smoothing the glossy hair of her ward and looking kindly at Grandmother.

"I should not presume to come to your Grace, if I thought they were unworthy."

Then she told about Christina and Milo, and how he came to be taken into the army, keeping back only the poor girl's persecution by the steward. She did not want to injure him any more than was necessary.

"That is the same girl whose lover had that quarrel with Piccolo."

"The same, your Grace."

"Is she so pretty that all the men fight for her?"

"A girl like a strawberry, your Grace; at the harvest festival she will present the wreath, so your Grace can see her. To be sure, sorrow doesn't add any beauty; when a girl grieves for love, her head droops like a faded flower. Christina is now but the shadow of herself, but one word will restore her, so that she will soon be as before. Her Grace, the Countess, is also very pale; but when she sees her old home and what is dear to her heart, her cheeks will blossom out like rose petals," added Grandmother giving the words, "dear to her heart," such an emphasis that the young lady was startled. The Princess cast a keen glance first upon the Countess then upon Grandmother, but the latter acted as if nothing had happened; she wanted to