"Once upon a time--you see that I am conventional--there lived a beautiful young princess, on whom a wicked old troll had cast an evil eye. Now this wicked troll was not so hideous as the trolls we see in our fairy-books--I must say that--but he was so wicked that even this deficiency could not excuse him. The princess was as young and innocent--I was going to say as simple--as she was beautiful, and the wicked troll talked so much of his experience in the world, and boasted so hugely of his wealth and generosity and other shining virtues, that the imagination of the poor little princess was quite fired, and she was flattered into thinking that here was a treasure not to be lightly put aside. And so, in a foolish moment she consented to be his bride, and he took her away to his castle--I believe trolls do have castles--to make ready for the marriage. While the preparations were going on, and the wicked old troll was laughing with glee to think how he had deluded a princess, a handsome young prince appeared on the scene, and what so natural as that the princess should immediately contrast him with the troll. And it came about, also quite naturally, that before the prince and the princess knew that anything was happening, they fell so violently in love with each other that the birds, and the bees, and the flowers in the garden, and the squirrels in the trees sang and hummed and gossiped and chattered about it." Here I paused. Phyllis did not look up, but I felt a shiver run through her body as I stroked her hair and put my arm around her shoulder to caress away her fear. "But it happened that although the princess was so much in love that at times she must have forgotten even the existence of the old troll, she was still possessed of that most inconvenient and annoying internal arrangement which we call the New England conscience, and one night, when the prince had declared his love with more ardor than usual, she remembered the past, how she had promised to marry the troll, and how she must keep her word, as all good princesses do. And the prince, who was a very upright young man, most foolishly listened to her, and agreed to give her up. Whereupon these poor children, having resolved that it was for the best--" Phyllis looked up quickly. Her face was white, and a look, half of fear, half of reproach, came to her eyes. She sank down and hid her face in her hands. Both my arms were around her and I even laughed.