“The Quiet Road sounds like the very thing,” approved the prince. “And we are all comrades of the road to-day. Formality must be laid aside. I shall call you all by your first names: I’ve got them right? Natalie, Alys, Beth and Dirk? I thought so. I have quite a lot of names, six Christian names, besides a few family ones. It isn’t just the thing, I suppose, for young people to call an old gentleman, twenty-seven years old, by an unset first name, so to speak. So, as I am one of the United States’ English cousins, perhaps you would better call me Cousin Hal. My mother called me Hal, when I was a small chap. Henry is one of my names, you know. Do you agree?” “If--if you say it is respectful,” said Natalie, looking so lovely as she blushed that the prince’s eyes reflected it. “Couldn’t we make believe that you are Prince Hal--you are, of course--I mean the old one, and that we are riding back after the battle of Agincourt?” asked Beth. “Such a child for history and for playing at it!” exclaimed “Cousin Hal.” “Surely, if you like. Just you wait till I get home and crush my nieces and nephews, telling them of the little American who knows English history so well and never loses a chance to bring it to life! I’ll shame them, the scamps!” “Would you tell us about them--Cousin Hal?” Natalie’s voice trembled, but she bravely brought out the alarming name. “Bravo, pretty Natalie!” cried “Cousin Hal.” “What a jolly morning we’re having! There’s nothing like a young party like this, on horseback! I’ll tell you all I can about the children at home; they’re nice children.” Whereupon the prince began to tell them of “the children at home.” As he talked he showed them a portrait of a merry, sensible, well-trained group of youngsters, brave, dutiful, but full of human nature. His listeners almost forgot, after a while, that the boy so like Dirk in his traits was the heir to the throne. Alys and Dirk fell back to hear the story. It was plain to be seen that this prince was a fond uncle and that he liked nothing better than frolics with the king’s children, his nieces and nephews. It was a beautiful morning, late in March. The air was full of the damp warmth of open ground; the odors of earth and flowing sap were upon its gentle movement. As the horsemen rode out “the Quiet Road” bluebirds, robins, song sparrows, peewees, the chorusing blackbirds uttered delicious notes from low growths along the stone rows. “We turn in here, Cousin Hal,” said Natalie, indicating with her stock a road that looked like a lane, leading nowhere. “Perhaps it isn’t too damp to sit on a log for a little while. Mama had a tiny luncheon put up, mostly for the fun of eating it out-of-doors. Tim has it in a hamper on the front of his saddle.”