of the largest room of the baby-house were
all the Court, gathered about the old King, who had fallen in a faint
from hunger.

"He is starved!" cried the Queen, in a piercing wee voice of anguish.

"I am starving myself!" roared the Lord Chamberlain, in a keen though
tiny roar.

"We are all starving!" shrieked the whole Court, in voices more or less
audible.

"Well," Vance said, looking at the affliction of the little people, "I
must say this is extremely disagreeable of them all to be starving. They
always are starving."

"Very," the old woman echoed, with a sneering chuckle.

As she spoke, she took from beneath her faded cloak a basket in which
were delicate white cakes, fruits, and honey. These she began to eat
with great relish, apparently not at all interested in the Prince or his
family.

"Come, now," cried he, "give me some of that! My Court is half dead."

"Really?" she returned, coolly munching away.

"Yes," shouted Vance, vainly attempting to snatch something from the
well-filled basket, "and I must have a cake to feed them on."

The old lady made no resistance, but only flitted up like a bird, in
some unaccountable way, to a limb of a tree, where she sat eating as
placidly as ever.

"Goodness!" said poor Vance, startled half out of his wits, "are you
Godmother too? You shy about just like her."

"She is a friend of mine," answered the old woman. "I know all about
you, too, for that matter."

There was nothing left for Vance but to beg for pity, and at last the
strange creature threw him down half a small cake.

"There's plenty for your family."

Vance provided for his little people, and then began humbly to beg for a
few morsels for himself.

"Wait," said the woman on the bough overhead, "till I see what there is
in the pantry."

She disappeared with great suddenness; but presently a little window
opened in the side of the tree trunk, from which the wrinkled old face
looked out.

[Illustration]

"Here are a few dry crusts from the closet," she said. "You may have
them. With a little honey I think they will go very well."

She handed two or three mouldy scraps of bread out as she spoke, which
Vance took with as good grace as he could muster.

"Where is the honey?" he asked, eying his crusts ruefully.

"Oh, I'll eat the honey while you eat the crusts," was the answer. "That
is by far the best way to arrange it."

"You are mean enough, I hope," he exclaimed angrily.

But, alas! a