I lost my sport all
yesterday in following a pretty girl, here is game of a new
description."
Rose started up, overwhelmed with terror, while the prince laughed
most brutally. It was not till that moment she recollected that this
her black day, which accounted for his not recognising her. "Ah!"
thought she, "this is the humane man who could not behold a woman
weep; because my colour displeases him, he is ready to take my life.
No hope now remains for me--my misfortunes are at their height!"
Rose wept all night; yet she could not prevent herself from returning
to the same spot on the following day; she felt irresistibly led
thither, dreading, and yet wishing, to meet the prince.
He had been already waiting above an hour, and accosted her with a
degree of respect quite unusual for him; but he was in love, and love
makes the worst of people better for the time.
"Cruel beauty!" said he, in a courtier-like style, to which Rose was
little accustomed, "what have I not suffered during your absence! I
even remained all night in the wood, in expectation of you, and the
queen my mother despatched messengers everywhere, fearing some
accident had befallen me."
"The queen, your mother!" exclaimed Rose. "Are you, then, the son of a
queen?"
"I have betrayed myself!" said the prince, striking his forehead in a
theatrical manner. "Yes, it is true, I have that misfortune.
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