herself.

Drolette remained some time motionless. She passed her hand over her
brow, as if to chase away a sad thought; then approaching Prince
Marvellous, she said to him:--

"Prince, the title which I give you indicates your birth. You are the
son of King Ferocious and the queen Aimee, concealed till now under the
appearance of a modest farmer woman. The name of your father
sufficiently indicates his character. Your mother having prevented him
from killing his brother Indolent and his sister-in-law Nonchalante, he
turned his rage against her. I was her protectress, and carried her off
with her faithful Passerose in a cloud.

"And you, Princess Violette, your birth is equal to that of Prince
Marvellous. Your father and mother were that same King Indolent and
Queen Nonchalante who, saved once by Queen Aimee, became at last the
victims of King Ferocious and their own apathy. Since that time King
Ferocious has been killed by his subjects who could no longer support
his cruel yoke.

"They expect you, prince, to reign over them. I have revealed to them
your existence and I have promised them that you will take a wife worthy
of you. You can select from the twelve princesses whom your father
retained captive after having slain their parents. They are all wise and
beautiful and each has a kingdom for her marriage portion."

Surprise had kept Prince Marvellous silent. At the last words of the
fairy he turned towards Violette, and seeing that she was weeping, he
said:--

"Why do you weep, my Violette? Do you fear that I will blush for
you--that I will not dare to testify before my whole court the
tenderness with which you inspire me? That I will conceal what you have
done for me or forget the bonds which attach me to you for ever? Can you
believe that I will be ungrateful enough to seek any other affection
than yours and fill your place by any of those princesses held captive
by my father? No, dearest Violette! Until this time I have seen in you
only a sister but from this moment you are the companion of my life, my
sole friend, my wife!"

"Your wife, dear brother? That is impossible! How can you seat upon your
throne a creature so repulsive as your poor Violette? How will you dare
to brave the raillery of your subjects and of the neighboring kings? And
how could I show my deformity in the midst of the festivals given on
your return to your kingdom? No, no, my brother! Let me live near you,
near to your mother, alone,