eclared, _a good thing could never be done too
soon_.

The marriage was a grand one, as became a royal princess of the great
house of Primus Lackaday; and immediately after the ceremony, by
Lionel's desire, the young pair drove in a glass-coach, drawn by eight
swift chargers, through the forest, Lilias bearing in her hands a large
posy of water-lilies--away, past the cascade, and on, to the opening of
the gold-mine, at the back of the mountain.

An order was sent down in the basket, by a special messenger, bidding
old Martin and Dame Ursula ascend to meet their Lionel and his noble
bride.

As it was, the poor old couple had been searching in anguish for their
son; and now, weary and heavy-hearted, they had arrived just at the foot
of the opening when the news came to them.

Then the sudden reaction, and the sight of the brand-new silk and velvet
garments Lionel sent down for them, almost killed them with joy. "'Tis
my _Lionel's voice_ I hear!" cried Dame Ursula as they were being drawn
up in the basket.

"Ah me, the odour of my flowers after twenty years!" sobbed out Martin,
the tears trickling down his furrowed cheeks at the recognition of his
favourites.

And so they were all happy again; and Lionel's fortune was made,
although his father found no heaps of gold.

As for the king, _in three days_ he was back to his fishing again, lying
on the bank of the great pond, as happy as ever he was in the old times
when he was only "My Lord Lackaday." He said the land was too much
trouble for him; Lilias and Lionel might rule it as they thought fit.
And so these two _really_ carried out all _he_ had promised to do.

The good little fairy-body rarely appeared in the country after Lionel's
wedding-day; for the people were all happy now, "and," as she declared,
"had no need of her."

And then it happened that one day at noontide, when the sun was shining
overhead with a dazzling heat, and all the air was warm and drowsy, the
king, who had been angling since early morning, without catching the
smallest minnow, and had fallen fast asleep, lost his balance, and
rolled down the sloping bank into the water, and disappeared. They
dredged the lake for his body in vain. No trace of him was to be
discovered, although they sent the most expert divers down to search.

But, strange to say, every evening from that time forward, just about
sunset, a little bird with plumage gay, called "_The Kingfisher_," might
be seen to haunt the