to the battlefield." But the worst Gay couldn't get it off her mind the worst was that Prince Gaylord could have courted and probably won the lovely Princess Marguerite. Yes, that was by far the worst. For weeks now, Gay had been trying to push this thought to the back of her mind, but her nights were filled with dreams in which her beloved Marg see mod to be laughing at hor proposterous aspiration. Gay suddenly glanced up, and there as if the thought had produced the image stood Princess Marguerite. Gay looked quickly away, blushing and shame faced, like a little boy caught stealing a cookie. But Princess Marguerite had al-

ready seen the wistful expression and asked, "What's wrong, little Prince Gaylord?"

Gay frowned for biddingly.

"I have some thing for you," Marg said pertly, hoping to oheer her up.

"What is it?" Gay tried not to look too interested.

Marg held out something she had been hiding behind her back. "I made it all myself, just for you. It's just the thing for the se long rides you've been taking at night. Alex told me about them. And I thought it might remind you to think of me once in a while," she added teasingly, as she unfolded a handsome cloak of a strange silvery material, suitable for any young prince. Her own delicate hands had spun and woven and sewn the whole garment and she was very proud of the results. "I hope it will keep you warm," she said sincerely, offering the gift.

• or

"What differance does it make to you if I'm cold lonely, for that matter?" Gay blurted, pushing the preGent aside.

Marg looked hurt as if she had bent to kiss a dear hand and been slapped in the face for her trouble. "It make o a great deal of difforonce to me. After all, wo are friends, aren't we?" Understanding a little, she added, "And I do care about you."

"I'm sorry.

That was a terrible thing to say. And I'd no right to be angry just because that is. Marg, I've