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Pon rushed forward, holding out his arms as if to
embrace her and calling her sweet names. But Gloria gazed
upon him coldly and repelled him with a haughty gesture.
At this the poor gardener's boy sank upon his knees and
hid his face in his arms, weeping bitter tears; but the
Princess was not at all moved by his distress. Passing
him by, she drew her skirts aside, as if unwilling they
should touch him, and then she walked up the path a way
and hesitated, as if uncertain where to go next.
Trot was grieved by Pon's sobs and indignant because
Gloria treated him so badly. But she remembered why.
"I guess your heart is frozen, all right," she said to
the Princess. Gloria nodded gravely, in reply, and then
turned her back upon the little girl. "Can't you like
even me?" asked Trot, half pleadingly.
"No," said Gloria.
"Your voice sounds like a refrig'rator," sighed the
little girl. "I'm awful sorry for you, 'cause you were
sweet an' nice to me before this happened. You can't help
it, of course; but it's a dreadful thing, jus' the same."
"My heart is frozen to all mortal loves," announced
Gloria, calmly. "I do not love even myself."
"That's too bad," said Trot, "for, if you can't love
anybody, you can't expect anybody to love you."
"I do!" cried Pon. "I shall always love her."
"Well, you're just a gardener's boy," replied Trot,
"and I didn't think you 'mounted to much, from the first.
I can love the old Princess Gloria, with a warm heart an'
nice manners, but this one gives me the shivers."
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