“I am not ill, really,” said the princess. She was lying back upon the lounge, and fanning her flushed face with her little gossamer handkerchief, which Martha could see was limp with tears. “My head does ache now, but I brought it on by this wretched crying. It’s all my own fault. You did not know that I was such a weakling, did you?” and she made an effort to smile. “Oh, I am so, so sorry!” said Martha, helplessly. “You needn’t be, dear. Never be sorry for any man or woman who is equal to his or her life--and I am equal to mine. One time out of ten it gets the better of me, but the nine times I get the better of it. This mood will surely pass. Indeed, it is passing now. You have helped me already. It has been very long indeed since I have found or wanted human help, and it takes me by surprise.” Martha saw that she was preparing to lead the talk away from her recent tears and their cause, and she passionately wished that her friend should feel that she longed to enter into her sorrow with her, if it could be allowed her; so she said impulsively: “I don’t suppose you feel like telling me your trouble; but oh, I wish you could!” “I do feel like it, you darling child! I could talk to you about it better than to any one on earth; but there are some things one cannot speak of even to one’s own heart. That is the trouble now. If I were to let myself indulge freely in imaginings and regrets, I should satisfy the want of the moment, but it would undo me utterly. My great temptation is regret, and I must be strong enough not to regret.” “Oh, how sad life is!” cried Martha. “I have always thought that you at least ought to be happy. I gave you the name of ‘The Happy Princess,’ out of Tennyson. It has seemed to me from the first that you were a creature who had it in you to command happiness.” “Ah, dear child, if you could only know how helpless I am there! The best thing that is in me is the power to command courage. That I can, and for the most part do. While that is so, I shall not complain.” [Illustration: “‘OH, I AM SO, SO SORRY.’”] “Then you are really unhappy? Oh!” said Martha, drawing herself up with an impulsive movement. “I know what that fervent exclamation means as well as if you had put it into words,” said the princess. “You are wishing that there were some way in which, by sacrificing yourself, you could purchase happiness for me.” Martha, startled at the correctness of this guess, could say nothing in denial.