'Is it _Pax_, Bertie?' she asked. (She had not had brothers for nothing.) 'No, it isn't,' said Bertie. 'Oh, you want to sulk? I thought only girls sulked,' she said; 'but it doesn't matter, I only wanted to tell you something.' His curiosity was too much for his dignity. 'Well--what?' he asked, gruffly enough. 'Only,' she said, 'that I've been thinking over things, and I dare say you _could_ fight my brothers--only not all together and I'm not sure that Charlie wouldn't beat you.' 'Charlie! I could settle him in five minutes,' muttered Bertie, only half appeased. 'Oh, not in _five_, Bertie,' cried Mabel, 'ten, perhaps; but you'd never want to, would you, when he's _my_ brother? And now,' she added, 'we're friends again, aren't we, Bertie?' He was a cynic in his way--'I see,' he said, 'you want something out of me; you should have thought of that before you quarrelled, you know!' Mabel contracted her eyebrows and bit her lip for a moment, then she said meekly-- 'I know I should, Bertie; but I thought perhaps you wouldn't mind doing this for me. I can ask the boy on my other side--he's a stupid-looking boy, and I don't care about knowing him--still, if _you_ won't do it----' 'Oh, well, _I_ don't mind,' he said, softened at once. 'What is it you want?' 'Bertie,' she whispered breathlessly, 'you'll be quite a nice boy if you'll only get me that dear little sugar prince off the cake there; you can reach him better than I can, and--and I don't quite like to--only, be quick, or some one else will get him first.' And in another second the enraptured prince found himself lying on her plate! 'Isn't he lovely?' she cried. 'Not bad,' said Bertie; 'give us a bit--_I_ got him for you, you know.' '_Give you a bit!_' she cried, with the keenest horror and disgust. 'Bertie! you don't really think I wanted him to--to eat.' 'Oh, the paint doesn't matter,' he said; 'I've eaten lots of them.' 'You really are too horrid,' she said; 'all you think about is eating things. I can't bear greedy boys. I won't have anything to do with you any more; after this we'll be perfect strangers.' He stared helplessly at her; he had made friends and done all she asked of him, and, just because he begged for a share in the spoil, she had treated him like this! It was too bad of her--it served him right for bothering about a girl. He would have told her what he thought about it, only just then there was a general rising. The prince was carried tenderly upstairs, entrusted with many cautions to a trim maid, and laid to rest wrapped in a soft lace handkerchief upon a dressing-table, to dream of the new life in store for him to the accompaniment of faintly heard music and laughter from below. He had given up all his old ideas of recovering his kingdom and marrying a princess--very likely he might not be a fairy prince after all, and he felt now that he did not very much care if he wasn't.