little hand in
ours. What possibilities might lie behind those drooping lashes. And we
were in amorous mood that night, the music in our feet, the flash and
glitter in our eyes. And then, to pique us further, she disappeared as
suddenly and strangely as she had come. Who was she? Whence came she?
What was the mystery surrounding her? Was she only a delicious dream,
a haunting phantasy that we should never look upon again, never clasp
again within our longing arms? Was our heart to be for ever hungry,
haunted by the memory of--No, by heavens, she is real, and a woman. Here
is her dear slipper, made surely to be kissed. Of a size too that a
man may well wear within the breast of his doublet. Had any woman--nay,
fairy, angel, such dear feet! Search the whole kingdom through, but find
her, find her. The gods have heard our prayers, and given us this clue.
"Suppose she be not all she seemed. Suppose she be not of birth fit to
mate with our noble house!" Out upon thee, for an earth-bound, blind
curmudgeon of a Lord High Chancellor. How could a woman, whom such
slipper fitted, be but of the noblest and the best, as far above us,
mere Princelet that we are, as the stars in heaven are brighter than thy
dull old eyes! Go, search the kingdom, we tell thee, from east to west,
from north to south, and see to it that thou findest her, or it shall
go hard with thee. By Venus, be she a swineherd's daughter, she shall be
our Queen--an she deign to accept of us, and of our kingdom.

Ah well, of course, it was not a wise piece of business, that goes
without saying; but we were young, and Princes are only human. Poor
child, she could not help her education, or rather her lack of it.
Dear little thing, the wonder is that she has contrived to be no more
ignorant than she is, dragged up as she was, neglected and overworked.
Nor does life in a kitchen, amid the companionship of peasants and
menials, tend to foster the intellect. Who can blame her for being shy
and somewhat dull of thought? not we, generous-minded, kind-hearted
Prince that we are. And she is very affectionate. The family are trying,
certainly; father-in-law not a bad sort, though a little prosy when
upon the subject of his domestic troubles, and a little too fond of his
glass; mamma-in-law, and those two ugly, ill-mannered sisters, decidedly
a nuisance about the palace. Yet what can we do? they are our relations
now, and they do not forget to let us know it. Well, well, we had