'Well, I must say,' remarked the nurse, now thoroughly vexed with her for crying, 'it is not at all becoming in a princess to tell stories and expect to be believed just because she is a princess.' 'But it's quite true, I tell you.' 'You've dreamt it, then, child.' 'No, I didn't dream it. I went upstairs, and I lost myself, and if I hadn't found the beautiful lady, I should never have found myself.' 'Oh, I dare say!' 'Well, you just come up with me, and see if I'm not telling the truth.' 'Indeed I have other work to do. It's your dinnertime, and I won't have any more such nonsense.' The princess wiped her eyes, and her face grew so hot that they were soon quite dry. She sat down to her dinner, but ate next to nothing. Not to be believed does not at all agree with princesses: for a real princess cannot tell a lie. So all the afternoon she did not speak a word. Only when the nurse spoke to her, she answered her, for a real princess is never rude--even when she does well to be offended. Of course the nurse was not comfortable in her mind--not that she suspected the least truth in Irene's story, but that she loved her dearly, and was vexed with herself for having been cross to her. She thought her crossness was the cause of the princess's unhappiness, and had no idea that she was really and deeply hurt at not being believed. But, as it became more and more plain during the evening in her every motion and look, that, although she tried to amuse herself with her toys, her heart was too vexed and troubled to enjoy them, her nurse's discomfort grew and grew. When bedtime came, she undressed and laid her down, but the child, instead of holding up her little mouth to be kissed, turned away from her and lay still. Then nursie's heart gave way altogether, and she began to cry. At the sound of her first sob the princess turned again, and held her face to kiss her as usual. But the nurse had her handkerchief to her eyes, and did not see the movement. 'Nursie,' said the princess, 'why won't you believe me?' 'Because I can't believe you,' said the nurse, getting angry again. 'Ah! then, you can't help it,' said Irene, 'and I will not be vexed with you any more. I will give you a kiss and go to sleep.' 'You little angel!' cried the nurse, and caught her out of bed, and walked about the room with her in her arms, kissing and hugging her. 'You will let me take you to see my dear old great big grandmother, won't you?' said the princess, as she laid her down again. 'And you won't say I'm ugly, any more--will you, princess?' 'Nursie, I never said you were ugly. What can you mean?' 'Well, if you didn't say it, you meant it.' 'Indeed, I never did.' 'You said I wasn't so pretty as that--' 'As my beautiful grandmother--yes, I did say that; and I say it again, for it's quite true.' 'Then I do think you are unkind!' said the nurse, and put her handkerchief to her eyes again.