nd in which, by her unconscious
revelation, she was leaving the unhappy Court Godmother, who was so
stunned that it was some time before she could think out the situation
at all clearly.

The present Sovereigns of Maerchenland, it seemed, were nothing but
impostors! Innocent impostors, no doubt--but that did not lessen her own
responsibility for helping to place them on the throne. If she made the
truth known, would the people--worse still, would the ex-Regent--believe
that she and the Baron and the Astrologer Royal had not been deceiving
them from the first? She recognised now that they had been too ready to
accept the wearer of Prince Chrysopras's jewelled badge as the
sought-for Queen without some further inquiry--and yet who in all
Maerchenland would have dreamed of making any? How could anyone have
supposed that Queen Selina had merely become the possessor of the jewel
by purchasing it from that little Lady Daphne? It seemed to follow that
Lady Daphne must be the true Queen. The Fairy remembered now that she
had taken her to be so at their first meeting. If only she had thought
then of asking a question or two, the mistake might have been discovered
before matters had gone too far--but, in her unfortunate anxiety to see
a legitimate sovereign ruling Maerchenland once more she had taken
everything for granted. How could she put it right now without appearing
either a traitress to the Kingdom, or at least a foolish old Fairy who
ought to have known her own business better? That was a bitter
reflection for an autocratic dame who had long been accustomed to
consider that age and experience had endowed her with a wisdom which was
absolutely infallible.

There was just one faint hope to which she clung. She had been mistaken
once--why should she not be mistaken again? Lady Daphne might herself
have bought the pendant from some third person. In that case she would
have no better claim to the throne than Queen Selina, and matters could
be left as they were--which would relieve the Fairy of the unpleasant
necessity of having to admit that she was liable to error.

She could not rest till she knew more, and so, as soon as she felt equal
to any action, she took her crutch-handled staff, hobbled down the
winding steps, and then up more stairs and along a succession of
corridors, until she reached the door of the chamber she had been told
was Daphne's.

"I shall know very soon now!" she told herself. "And, after all, there'