Cornichon; 'you used to declare that you did
not care for beauty, as long as you had my heart.'

'Yes, I know,' said she, 'but how can you go on caring for a person who
is as old and plain as I?'

'Toupette, Toupette,' replied Cornichon, 'you are only talking nonsense.
My heart is as much yours as ever it was, and nothing in the world can
make any difference.'

At this point of the conversation the Prince Zeprady entered the room,
with the news that the genius, full of regret for his behaviour, had
given Cornichon full permission to depart for Bagota as soon as he
liked, and to take Toupette with him; adding that, though he begged they
would excuse his taking leave of them before they went, he hoped, before
long, to visit them at Bagota.

Neither of the lovers slept that night--Cornichon from joy at returning
home, Toupette from dread of the blow to her vanity which awaited her at
Bagota. It was hopeless for Cornichon to try to console her during the
journey with the reasons he had given the day before. She only grew
worse and worse, and when they reached the palace went straight to her
old apartments, entreating the fairy to allow both herself and Cornichon
to remain concealed, and to see no one.

For some time after their arrival the fairy was taken up with the
preparations for the rejoicings which were to celebrate the peace, and
with the reception of the genius, who was determined to do all in his
power to regain Selnozoura's lost friendship. Cornichon and Toupette
were therefore left entirely to themselves, and though this was only
what they wanted, still, they began to feel a little neglected.

At length, one morning, they saw from the windows that the fairy and the
genius were approaching, in state, with all their courtiers in
attendance. Toupette instantly hid herself in the darkest corner of the
room, but Cornichon, forgetting that he was now no longer a boy of
fourteen, ran to meet them. In so doing he tripped and fell, bruising
one of his eyes severely. At the sight of her lover lying helpless on
the floor, Toupette hastened to his side; but her feeble legs gave way
under her, and she fell almost on top of him, knocking out three of her
loosened teeth against his forehead. The fairy, who entered the room at
this moment, burst into tears, and listened in silence to the genius,
who hinted that by-and-by everything would be put right.

'At the last assembly of the fairies,' he said, 'when the doings of ea