'Do tell me which is the prince?' asked Mary. 'Oh!' she said, in a very excited whisper the next instant, 'that must be the prince, that one in the white and gold clothes. Look, he's going to dance with Evangeline!' Mary was quite right. The prince offered Evangeline his right hand and they came to the middle of the large room together. Then the band, which had stopped for a little while, began to play again, and the prince and Evangeline began to dance. 'How lovely the prince looks!' said Mary; 'does he always look like that?' 'Hus--s--sh!' said Sister Agatha, 'or they won't let us stay.' 'Oh, do please let us stay,' answered Mary in such a low whisper that Sister Agatha scarcely knew she had spoken at all. But if ever she stepped away from the band, which seemed to make a great noise close to Mary's ears, Mary began to look tearful, so, although she felt rather heavy and Sister Agatha's arms were beginning to ache, she let the child stay on, until presently she found that she was fast asleep. And the next thing Mary knew was that she was sitting on her own bed, whilst Sister Agatha took off her stockings, and all the wonders she had seen were at an end for the present. VI MARY IS TAKEN AWAY Mary quite believed that she was living in an enchanted place where she would always be able to have everything she wanted, and even a great many things she did not want in the least. Where there would always be plenty of nice things to eat and drink, and Evangeline to tell her stories as nobody had done before. She hoped she should never see Mrs. Coppert again as long as she lived, because Evangeline had said that she should not go away until her foot was well again, and although it was certainly better it was not quite well yet. But there were times when Mary felt just a little afraid, for now and then she dreamed she was back at William Street, where everything seemed much worse than it used to be. And one morning the tall man with the long beard looked at her foot a great while, and when it was covered over again, he quite frightened Mary. 'It is very much better,' he said, 'and there is no reason why she should not try to walk. In fact, the sooner she goes away the better.' 'There now,' said Sister Agatha when he had gone, 'what do you think of that? Won't it be nice to walk again? You will like that, won't you?' 'No,' answered Mary; 'I shan't like it at all. I don't want to walk.' 'Oh yes, you will like it!' said Sister Agatha. 'Now suppose you try to walk across the room.'