to go back!" she wailed, "I want to
stay here with you. Won't you send for me some day? Say you will; do say
you will!"

Daphne stooped to caress and comfort her, and also to hide her own
emotion. "I wish I could, darling," she said tenderly, "but I'm afraid,
I'm _afraid_ I mustn't make any promises that I'm not sure of being able
to keep."

"Then say you will--_perhaps_!" entreated Ruby, but her mother promptly
interposed.

"Ruby, my dear," she said, "you're forgetting how far her Majesty is now
our superior. A Palace is no longer a fit place for any of us to visit,
and I consider it best we should remain in future strictly in our
respective spheres."

"Then I will go to mine at once," said Daphne, smiling. "Good-bye, Mrs.
Wibberley-Stimpson. Good-bye, Edna." She held out her hand to both of
them, but they curtsied formally without offering to take it. "Good-bye,
dearest little Ruby--I hope your next governess will love you nearly as
much as I do--she can't _quite_! Good-bye, Mr. Stimpson--I think you
will be rather glad to be back in the City again, won't you?"

"I shall, indeed, your Majesty," he said. "To tell you the honest truth,
I don't think I was ever cut out for a monarch."

It was Clarence's turn next, and when he saw her offering him her hand
with the old frank friendliness, he had a renewed sense of his own
unworthiness.

"No," he said in a low voice, "you can't want to shake hands with--with
such a hopeless rotter as I've been!"

"I shouldn't," she replied, "if I weren't sure that you could be
something very much better if you chose. And I know you _will_ choose."

"I will," he said, "I swear I will--if I ever get the chance!"

"Your chance will come. Quite soon, perhaps. And when it does, remember
that I believe in you--and, good-bye, Clarence."

"Good-bye--Daphne," he said brokenly. As he took her hand he thought
with a keen pang that he had never held it before, and never would
again. And the time had been--or so at least he imagined--when he might
have made that hand his own for ever!

"Good night, Mirliflor," said Daphne, as he held aside the hangings for
her. "We shall meet to-morrow."

She passed into the great Hall with a dignity the more charming for
being so natural and unconscious--and that was the last Clarence was
ever destined to see of her.

He turned to Mirliflor, whose eyes still betrayed the pride he felt in
his beloved. "I don't mind telling you, old chap--er--Prince M