Let us say nothing.

It is worse than bad--as evil as possible.

Yet no.

Few are permitted, in an hour of trouble, to lean on the arm of a faithful friend." The words were accompanied with a light pressure of her little hand, and it seemed as if his old heart was growing young.
He dared not speak, for her wish was law; but while moving silently at her side, first along the shore, then through the gate, and finally over the marble flagstones which led to the palace portal, it seemed as if he beheld, instead of the veiled head of the hapless Queen, the soft, light-brown locks which floated around the face of a happy child.

Before his mental vision rose the little mistress of the garden of Epicurus.