ASKED BLYTHE’S mother. “I beg your pardon—what did you say?”Blythe set her cup and saucer down and stood up.The butler cleared his throat. “A talking frog.”“Mother, let me go and speak with him. I know why he is here.” Blythe rushed forward and was about to walk out the door.“Just a moment!” The queen stormed up to her. “What is this nonsense about a frog?”Jeremiah laughed. “Yes, what type of riff-raff have you been keeping company with?”“Perhaps she is in love with it.” David grinned.She could have boxed their ears. “Very humorous.”“Hey, if you are half as in love with the frog as Jeremiah is with the horse, this could be fun. Let us all go and meet him,” David said as he sat his plate upon a nearby end table.“Now this I have to see—little Blythe’s gentleman caller.” Jeremiah’s laughter grew louder as they came toward her.“You would not dare!” Blythe blocked the doorway. “You will not go and mock him. He came to see me, not you.”“Aye, perhaps she does love him!”
